Breaking Ties
by JustAnotherAuthorDurping
Summary: Sparrabeth. Elizabeth and her son are living in England with her aunt, where Elizabeth is forced once again into the walls of society. -On severe may never finish hiatus-
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is a VERY belated Eid present for my friend Zay (Zayz). I'm so sorry for the incredibly late publishing date, forgive me? I had to change ideas for what I was going to write for you three times, so that's half of the reason why, besides the fact I'm lazy. Sorry.

All right, I have to admit it; this is not going to be a one-shot. Why, you ask? Because when I was about halfway writing this I realized I could not incorporate everything I wanted to occur into one chapter, it would just be too much. So yes, I am going to continue this.

And please, I know this chapter is very slow, but if you read to the ending, I'm sure it will be worth your while. Trust me; chapter two will be far more interesting, because this is _**Sparrabeth.**_

**Disclaimer: I own the insane aunt and her friends, but other than that no, nothing is mine.**

**Chapter One: **

"Mother, mother!"

Will Junior, a boy of only eight, threw open the door to his mother's room, ignoring the maid who had opened her mouth in protest, and jumped onto the large bed the woman slept on, shaking her shoulder enthusiastically, a large grin plastered on the his face.

"Mother, wake up! It's Christmas!" exclaimed Will, his brown locks bouncing as he practically jumped up and down enthusiastically.

His mother's eyebrows furrowed for a moment as she groaned slightly before her eyelids lifted open, revealing two large brown eyes, still foggy with sleep.

"Come on!" persisted her son, jumping off the bed and bouncing in place.

Elizabeth stifled a yawn with a hand and stretched like a cat. "Alright Will, but please, keep your head on," she said with a grin, sliding out of the warm confines of her bed and slipping into her slippers and a thick robe. The grin on Will's face broadened, and he dashed out the door, only to return to the doorway and hover impatiently, his tiny foot tapping hastily against the rich hard wood floors.

Following her son out of her room, Elizabeth watched, eyes bright with joy, as Will danced down the hallway in front of her, cheeks red with excitement.

"Aunt Ethel isn't up yet, and please don't wake her. She's always so boring," he chided as he began to descend down a grand spiraling staircase. "She won't care if she misses Christmas morning anyway, she hates me."

"Will!" his mother exclaimed with a hint of reproach, "Aunt Ethel does not hate you; she has just come along in her years and has lost what little patience she had to begin with."

Will frowned slightly. "It must not have been much at all then."

With Will in the lead, the two made it down the staircase and across another hall into a large living room. The room had two long wall sized windows with the lush blood red curtains drawn open to reveal a white world outside, snow cascading from dimly lit sky. Between the windows sat an elegant yet simple fireplace that held smoldering wood, warming up the room at a considerable pace, with large cushioned chairs and couches around it, a table in the center. Placed upon the table were rolls, danishes, and sweet cakes, along with a small glass cups filled with tea; the site caused Elizabeth to grimace.

Will threw himself into a chair, legs jittering so quickly that his mother began to think they might just fly off; however the look on his face was so priceless that she could not help but laugh. She knew what he was expecting.

Every Christmas Elizabeth purchased her son one big gift, something that he had been begging her for the entire year, pleading her to give it to him early, though her firm hold never gave in. She was rather lucky her Aunt Ethel was not awake for she would most certainly not approve of the gift Elizabeth had in store for little Will.

Holding up one hand to stop him from getting up, Elizabeth left the living room and dashed back upstairs to her room and threw open her closet where she began to push aside clothes and boxes. Lifting a large wooden chest and moving it aside, she found the long thin parcel she was looking for. Smiling, she left her room and returned to where Will waited.

Sitting next to him, she handed Will the item. His eyes widened, and quickly, he tore at the brown paper that held the item of desire. Beneath the paper was a long navy blue velvety box with silver hinges on the side. Glancing at his mother, Will's fingers ran along the opening for a moment before lifting the lid up, and gasping at what he saw.

Inside the box was a sheathed sword.

Eyes as wide as saucers, Will's trembling hands reached into the box and pulled out the item, his thin fingers running up and down the handle and hilt. He held it in his hands for a moment, marveling over the item as the shocked look on his face slowly grew into a wide smile. Upon unsheathing the sword, even Elizabeth could not contain a small gasp at the site of it; glimmering magnificently and almost proudly in the light of the fire, its blade thin yet durable. Its gold hilt was simple yet drew the eye toward it with its curved ends and the silver tint that ran along the ends of it. The weapon held an enormous amount of character and power.

"Well?" his mother asked, eyes lighting up at the site of her son's face. "Do you like it?"

Sheathing the sword, Will threw his arms around his mother, clinging to her. "Oh, thank you mum!" He pulled away, only to hug his mother again.

She laughed. "I'm taking this as a yes." Pulling her son off her, she looked deep into his eyes, suddenly with a grave look. "Now Will," she murmured, "I want you to take this upstairs and do not let your aunt catch you with this, all right? God knows what might happen to her if she sees you with this. Tomorrow I'll take you down to the caves and we'll practice." She raised her eyebrows suggestively and tousled his hair.

Hugging his mother for the third time and repeating his thanks, Will put the sword away and sprinted up the stairs quietly. Elizabeth watched him for a moment, feeling that blissful emotion one gets when they know they've made someone else's day particularly cheerful. Plucking a random cake from the table, she stood up and walked towards the window, sighing at the site before her.

The black vastness of the ocean was spread out before her, waves rolling lazily against the jagged rocks that protruded from the surface near the shoreline. Ships anchored at the docks rocked and swayed leisurely with the ebb and flow of the tide, looking quite tranquil as the white specks fluttered from the sky. The entire site was spectacular, and it only made Elizabeth frown as she bit into the sticky cake.

"Don't you get crumbs all over my floor, child! Eat that over a plate! Disgraceful; I know my brother did not raise you in a barn with the pigs. How would he or your governess think if he saw you like this?"

Elizabeth spun around, her hand instinctively flying to her waist where at one point in her life she would have unsheathed a sword. The site of her aunt nearly made her laugh, and she placed upon her lips the best smile she could muster. Setting the cake on a tiny china plate, she walked towards her aunt, only to stop a few feet away from her, smiling uncertainly at her scowling family member.

"Good morning Aunt Ethel," she welcomed graciously. "Merry Christmas."

Looking around the room, her aunt's frown grew deeper. "You did Christmas without me. Why couldn't you and the boy wait? You are both as impatient as the devil," she growled, ignoring her greeting and turning away towards the kitchen in a huff. Looking at the stairs behind where her aunt had stood, Elizabeth noticed Will sitting at the top of the staircase, holding his mouth to stifle his laughter.

Smirking, Elizabeth ascended the stairs quickly, forgetting about her previously wanted breakfast when Will cried out with laughter and jumped away, running down the hallway. Lifting up the hem of her nightgown and robe, she chased after him, only to discover him sitting on her bed, giggling hysterically into a pillow.

"'Don't you get crumbs all over my floor!'" he mocked, pinching his nose. "Mum, you _were_ raised in a barn, weren't you?"

Trying to hold back her own laughter, Elizabeth sat next to him cross-legged. "Oh yes. Amongst the pigs too," she said all too seriously. She knew it was wrong to scorn her aunt so, after everything she had done for her and Will, but sometimes she just could not take her depressing and hateful outlook on life.

Waving a hand in front of his face, her son looked at her disgustedly. "I always wondered where that dreadful smell came from."

"I'm sorry my son, but you will soon inherit the terrible stink." She looked at him gravely.

"I'm a monster," Will cried, cupping his face in his hands dramatically.

Draping her arms around his shoulders, Elizabeth hugged him. "Ah, but you're my little monster child," she cooed.

A knock at the door made both son and mother jump. Squirming out of his mother's grip just before the door opened, Will sat up straight, expecting it to be his hostile great aunt in a rage. However he was quite surprised.

"Pardon me," a maid apologized. "But Lady Ethel requests you and your son to dress immediately, for guests shall be arriving at noon." Glancing at Elizabeth, she looked behind herself and picked up a rather large white box. "She requests you wear this."

Eyeing the box nervously, Elizabeth stood up and strode across the room, finding it to be surprisingly heavy. "Thank you Jane." Smiling, the maid wished her a happy holiday, and curtsied her way out of the room.

Placing the box on the bed, Elizabeth lifted the lid, Will peering over her shoulder curiously with a thoughtful look. Tearing the tissue paper away, Elizabeth pulled out a deep forest green dress. Sighing, she unfolded it, holding it in front of her, eyeing the neckline critically.

"I suppose I'm going to have to thank her for this." She knew the only reason her aunt had bought it was because she wanted her to look presentable to their guests.

Nodding, Will looked back into the box, pulling out another garment. "You missed something," he said, holding the garment. Taking one look at the material, Elizabeth groaned in despair.

"What is it?" Will asked, looking at the article of clothing with a puzzled look.

Sighing again, Elizabeth laid the dress on the bed and went to her closet where she began sifting through shoes. "A corset."

His puzzled look slowly changed to a look of remembrance. "A corset! Isn't that what that pirate saved you from? Jack?"

The sound of the familiar pirates name made her smile. She made a sound that clarified him to be right, before standing up straight, a pair of matching green shoes in her hands. "You ought to go change Will. Make sure your hair isn't a mess." Setting the shoes beside her bed, she patted him on the shoulder. "God have mercy on us today. If it's Clarice they will be here for hours."

Making a face, Will walked out of the room, asking more himself then anyone else, "Why is every holiday here so boring?"

The remainder of Elizabeth's morning was spent grooming herself. After a short bath in a tub of warm water, Elizabeth, (with the help of a few maids) were able to get her into the corset and dress without much of a problem. The corset was not as tight as the one that had led to a path of adventure almost nine years ago, though it was still uncomfortable. After getting dressed, she was forced to sit in front of a mirror whilst the maid Jane did her hair, making it into a complicated bun.

After the whole process, all Elizabeth wanted to do was go back to bed, though with a sigh of annoyance, she knew it was only the beginning of her day.

* * *

To Will and Elizabeth's dismay, it was Clarice Wellington who came for the afternoon, accompanied by her husband Christopher who was a wealthy and well known banker in the city of Plymouth. Standing next to their aunt, Will and Elizabeth welcomed the guests at the doorway. Clarice was tall and lean, her graying hair pinned up, sitting underneath an atrocious purple hat that matched her equally as atrocious dress. Her nose was thin and sharp, and a permanent frown seemed to be set on her face. Her scowling hawk-eyes looked at Elizabeth and her son as if they were dust in a corner, not giving them any acknowledgement.

Christopher, however, was short stout man, a long bristly mustache sitting on his upper lip. He was bald and a pair of spectacles perched precariously on his nose. Clad in a dark blue suit, he held a hand out to Will, and tipped his hat to Elizabeth.

"Ah! Will lad, how big you've grown! Why, the last time I saw you, you were only a little thing!" he exclaimed, a big grin on his face. "And Elizabeth, you look beautiful as always, my dear," he added, turning his gaze to the woman.

Smiling warmly, she replied, "You're looking great yourself sir. Happy holidays."

Christopher shook his head. "Ah, there's no need to call me 'sir', it makes me feel old. Christopher is fine. And happy holidays to you too."

Before she could reply, Elizabeth's aunt cut-in, a strange looking smile on her face. "Oh no. I mean not to contradict you my good friend, but my niece was brought up in a respectable house-hold, and I feel her lessons would be for naught if she did not address you as 'sir'." Shooting Elizabeth a hard look as if something were her fault, Ethel Swann nodded at a few servants. "Please, allow them to take your coats. Lunch should be ready shortly, but in the meantime, let us gather in the parlor."

The group sat together as servants and maids bustled about, offering tea to everyone. Elizabeth sat up straight next to her son, holding the teacup in her hand properly, taking small polite sips from it. Will mimicked her, keeping his usually talkative mouth shut. It was torture.

Elizabeth tried to look interested in the conversation (last time she tuned in, it was something about politics), but she just could not handle it. Turning her gaze towards a window, she let her mind wander

_What is the difference between the living room, and the parlor? _she thought_. Moreover, why even bother having two separate rooms like that, when they're both are really the same and hold the same purpose? Actually, it just seems like an excuse to see whom the most expensive and elaborate home. _Looking at the older persons in the room, Elizabeth made a face. _If they're all friends, there's no need to act polite and proper around one another, nor is there a need to dress up. Why don't we look casual around one another, should friends not be casual? Instead, we've all been forced into uncomfortable dress clothes, as if we're all trying to impress each other. It's ridiculous. My aunt should not have even bothered having Will and I here._

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Elizabeth knew that the reason why her aunt called her and her son's presence was so she could be bumped higher on the social rank in Plymouth. The relationship between herself and her aunt was not what one would call love, merely tolerance.

A little more than eight years ago, Elizabeth had arrived at her aunt's doorstep, cold, tired, and most of all, heavy with child. After begging and pleading, her aunt had agreed to let her stay, but only if she and her soon to be son behaved properly. Her aunt had told her the moment they began misbehaving she would kick them out.

When neighbors and friends had asked of her niece, Ethel Swann had told them all that Elizabeth's husband had died, breaking off the major income to the home, leaving the poor 'widow' deep in debts and unable to provide for herself, let alone another mouth. She said that as her aunt, it was her joy to take in the poor woman and treat her as her own. The population of Plymouth was both amazed and touched by her generosity, claiming that she was one of the most charitable citizens in the great city.

Ethel Swann at one point had a husband whom was a wealthy and respectable governor, but he had died a little more than twelve years before that, leaving the woman with a large amount of money, and high standings in the city.

Though Elizabeth's aunt was always mean and sour, she at least provided the simple necessities of life for her niece and Will. When Elizabeth had arrived at her mansion all those years ago, she had been terrified that her aunt might know of her dangerous and what one might call 'criminal' past, and her aunt would not have allowed the pregnant woman to stay. If anything, she would have most likely called the authorities, and Elizabeth would have been branded and hung by the neck.

The thought made her shiver.

"…pirates is what Garrison says. Not many though."

Elizabeth's head snapped over to Christopher. "Pardon, but what has been happening?"

All the heads turned to Elizabeth; it was the first thing she had said since they had sat down. Blushing slightly, she looked down.

"I said," the man repeated, "that lately merchant ships along the coast of Great Britain have been pirated. They're not French or Chinese; we do not know where they're from."

Elizabeth's aunt scoffed. "Well, let's hope the filth of the sea is caught and hung."

Clarice shook her head in agreement.

Will shifted slightly, looking down into his full teacup. "I'm sure not all pirates are bad."

This time all eyes shifted to Will. Nervously, Elizabeth forced a laugh, patting her son's hair. "Oh Will," she breathed, "of course all pirates are bad." She had to suppress a cringe.

Aunt Ethel gave Will and Elizabeth a cold look before tearing her eyes from them. She was about to say something when a maid walked into the room, curtsying.

"Beg pardon my lady, but lunch is ready."

* * *

The rest of the afternoon was gruelingly long.

After a lengthy lunch in the dining hall, Aunt Ethel led the group to the library, where she discussed the Swann's family history. Will would have dozed off a few times, if Elizabeth had not jabbed him in the side to keep him awake.

The news about pirates near Great Britain was rather interesting; perhaps it was someone she knew, though she highly doubted it; there were hundreds, possibly even _thousands_ of pirates sailing the seven seas, and the chance of it being an old ally was slim to none.

When it was time for the Wellingtons to leave, Elizabeth and Will had to use all their will to keep themselves from sighing in relief. It was almost five o'clock, and for the past five hours they had been forced to endure the tedious conversations and comments exchanged between the old friends. Once the guests left the house, and their footsteps could no longer be heard, Aunt Ethel looked at her niece and great nephew with a frown.

"William, you must learn to stay in your place when guests are over, instead of making foolish comments!" she snapped suddenly, looking at the boy with steely eyes. Will opened his mouth agape before he held her gaze, glaring back, something that made his mother extremely proud.

Turning to Elizabeth, the aunt folded her hands together. "You and I have been invited to attend a ball at the Scott's tonight. We shall be leaving in an hour, and will not be back until much later. I expect you to be on your best behavior. A gown is ready for you upstairs."

Elizabeth blanched. Thinking frantically, she placed a hand on her head. "I would truly love to go with you, but I feel rather ill and-."

Her aunt shook her head, causing Elizabeth to stop. "Nonsense. You just ate too many cakes. You must improve on your manners child." Giving her niece a strange look, she added, "You shall accompany me, no questions. If you are to fall truly ill during the ball, you can wait in the carriage until my departure. Now, go upstairs and get ready, you are a mess."

Shooing Elizabeth up the spiraling stairs, the aunt looked at Will with a smile that did not meet her eyes. "Well, well Will, it looks like you'll be home alone tonight." Without another word, she left.

Will stood there, furious, until he decided to follow his mother upstairs.

"But mother, you can't go!" Will begged as Elizabeth and several maids stood behind a dressing screen, helping her put on another, this time light yellow dress.

"I'm sorry Will." She gasped for a moment as a maid pulled on corset strings. "But I have to. Please behave while I'm gone."

Will sat silent on his mother's bed, fumbling with a loose thread on the quilt stubbornly. "Why can't I come?"

With slightly uneven breath, Elizabeth explained that it was an adult-only event, and that he was better off remaining at home, for they were terribly boring.

After a few minutes, she stepped out from behind the screen, cheeks red, but beautiful as ever. "How does it look?" she asked, spinning around.

"Great," her son muttered.

Smiling faintly, Elizabeth walked over to him, sat on the bed and wrapped an arm over the boy's shoulders, careful not to wrinkle herself. "You can be happy about one thing," she said comfortingly.

He didn't want to ask it, but curiosity got the best of him. "What?"

Grinning, Elizabeth said in a quiet tone that only the two could hear, "That even though we'll be far apart, we both will be bored out of our wits."

* * *

Will gloomily watched the carriage pull away from the stables from the paned glass window, as if waiting for his mother to suddenly jump out and rush back to the house. She seemed to be the only friend he had in the world and every time she went somewhere without him, he suddenly felt unloved and unwanted. His great aunt had always tried to mix him in with the other sons of wealthy persons in Plymouth, but to her great dissatisfaction, he never got along with the other boys. The thought of his great aunt made his hand clench. He didn't understand why his mother always gave in to her aunt's wishes, even if they caused her unhappiness. He didn't understand the ranks of society, nor the reputations that people felt the need to keep. Those things were unimportant to him anyway.

Will hated his aunt; she seemed to always find something wrong with the child, even when he was nice and tidy and didn't speak.

_You hair is a complete abomination! Why did you leave your things out in the way? Why can't you do better on your schoolwork? You need to make friends and stop pestering your mother – she has a life to live boy, and I will not have you constantly at her side._

Gritting his teeth, Will sat in the living room, bored out of his mind as he watching the fluffy bits of snow fall from the sky. He longed to go on an adventure, to leave Plymouth; it was not like he was wanted here anyway, was he? His mother had told him of her past out on sea, how she had braved cursed pirates, defended a ship against the kraken, a terrible sea leviathan, and allied with some of the most famous pirates in history, and that's what he wanted to do. He hated being forced to act polite and agreeable around everyone, and he hated not being able to state his mind without being yelled at for being ridiculous. Here, he was only a child. A young little boy who had no concept of good and bad, right and wrong. But he _did_ understand it all. He was smart, and he understood more things than his aunt knew. He knew that she was a miserable old woman who had never found an ounce of happiness in her life, and he knew him and his mother did not belong here. He also knew that good man was not always the prosperous person of society; it could also be a rugged sailor out at sea, working hard. And that's where he and his mother belonged; at sea.

A maid walked into the room and bowed, causing the boy to jump from his thoughts.

"Dinner is ready for you sir."

Grimacing, Will got up reluctantly, and followed the girl to the dinning hall.

* * *

"Have you met my niece, Elizabeth?"

For what felt like the hundredth time, Elizabeth curtsied, a forced smile forming on her lips. The man was about her age, handsome, but had an egotistical aura to him. He reached out with his own hand arrogantly and took hers, kissing the back of it. Her aunt beamed.

"Well Miss. Swann, I can say you are positively the most beautiful woman in this room."

Elizabeth's smile turned to a frown, and her eyes narrowed. "Thank you," she said through gritted teeth, finding his presumptuous behavior obnoxious.

She did not pay attention as her aunt and the man (she already forgotten his name) exchanged brief comments on the festivities; her mind was too preoccupied with the pirates that had been on the coast of Britain. She could not understand why her thoughts always found their way back to the subject, but every time she thought of it she felt a strange feeling in her heart, a feeling of…

Of longing?

"Well Elizabeth?"

Jerking her head back towards the talking pair, Elizabeth asked, "What?"

The man smiled. "I asked if you would like dance with me."

She wanted to say no, and the word was about to roll off her tongue when she caught a glance from her aunt. The phrase _'if looks could kill' _flashed in her mind, and most reluctantly, she held out a hand. "Of course."

The man took his hand in hers, wrapping his other arm around her back, before sliding into the crowd of dancers.

The world spun in a blur, people and shapes becoming nothing but colorful blobs as they moved in sync with the music. _Let him lead_, she reminded herself as she almost ungracefully stepped on the man's foot. Left, right, foreword, right, left backwards. The man continuously smiled at her throughout the entire dance, his eyes flicking up and down her body.

She wanted to smack the arrogant smile right of his face.

She actually felt as if she were in her own kind of hell. Here she was, dancing with an infuriating man, socializing herself with the people of the world whom she hated most, and most of all, she was pretending. She was pretending to be a well-thought agreeable woman. She was pretending to enjoy the uncomfortable clothes she was forced to wear. She was pretending to be happy, and that everything in the world was bright and simple. Easy. Nothing too hard for a proper British woman now. Keep things simple; teach her the arts of music, dancing, painting, and you have yourself a perfect woman. No hard work. No labor. Nothing but learning things to satisfy the people around you, and keeping a good reputation in the city.

Isn't this what she ran away from all those years ago? Did she not want to break all ropes to society she had re-tied when she had come to her aunt? Did she still crave the adventure she had experienced what felt like a lifetime ago?

She knew the answer was yes. And she also knew that the only reason she had come to England was so that the baby would be safe, and that nothing would harm him.

William. Will. She loved her son so much. He was always there, a bright little sun within the gloomy shadows of her aunts house. Of course he was mischievous and forever getting in trouble, but he was a thoughtful young man, and Elizabeth knew that he would do always do the right thing.

_You'll have a chance to do the right thing… _

* * *

"Checkmate."

Jonathan frowned, seeing that he had lost again.

"I must say sir; you're quite good at this."

Will sighed, looking uninterestedly at the clock; it was only quarter after eight. His mother had been gone for two hours. "Good game," he said unenthusiastically, moving the glass pieces to their original spots.

The servant looked at the young boy and smiled. "Another game then?"

Will opened his mouth to answer, but a sudden crash was heard, followed by a high-pitched scream. The servant's eyes widened, and quickly he muttered his pardons as he leapt from his seat and rushed towards the sound of commotion, maids quickly following him. Will smiled, glad for the man's departure, but also as if sharing a secret.

It had been the glass vase in the parlor, and he knew it.

He could hear frantic voices faintly coming from the parlor, which was on the opposite wing of the mansion: _What happened? How? What are we supposed to tell her, the foul old woman? It's not my fault! Go get a broom!_

Suppressing a laugh, Will finished setting the pieces in their correct spots. He himself had almost knocked over that same vase several times whilst he had explored the mansion. He knew it was only a matter of time before someone (hopefully not him) would knock it over.

Standing, the young boy scanned the living room, looking for something interesting. Frowning, he walked to the window, looking at the dimly lit docks below him. His aunt's mansion sat on a steep hill by a cliff, and from any window on the east side of the house, you could see the ocean. His mother had told him that one day she and him would go sailing together, have their own little journey… just him and his mother…

Will had never known his father, though his mother had told him everything about how Will Turner, her husband, was cursed to sail on the _Flying_ _Dutchman_ for an eternity, only stepping on land once every ten years. The child was curious of course of his father, but he did not miss him, for how could he? He did not know what the older man was like, what he enjoyed, and most of all, if he had even wanted a child. Will didn't even know if he would like his father. He supposed he did not feel empty without one; perhaps it was because he had lived with only his mother for his whole life. She was like a father and a mother to him.

Frowning, Will walked away from the window and made his way upstairs into his bedroom. It was a decent sized room with a small bed, a desk, an armoire, and a few bookshelves, along with scattered toys and curios across the floor. On the far side of the room was a glass door that opened onto a veranda. Closing his door, Will walked across the room until he a came to his bed. Lifting up the bed skirt, he reached under and pushed on one end of a floorboard, watching the other end spring upwards. Grinning, he took the board away, and pulled out a familiar box.

Opening the box, he glanced at the door to make sure he had locked it. Withdrawing the sword, he unsheathed it and gave it a quick twirl; it was light, yet still heavy enough to hold during battle. Perfectly balanced right above the hilt, Will held it for a moment before tossing it into the air, and grabbing it by the handle. He grinned. Even if his mother was not there, he could still have fun.

He practiced for hours, imagining the posts on his bed were enemies, pretending to almost lose, before making an amazing comeback and disarming the 'enemy'. That was until he got tired and slightly bored with the activity.

Placing his gift back under the floorboard, Will changed into pajamas, and climbed into bed. It was eleven o'clock by then, and he was surprised no maids had come in yet to check on him. Yawning, he lied down, and put out the lantern beside his bed.

* * *

After waving her final goodbyes to the Scott's Elizabeth collapsed against the carriage seat, exhausted. Her aunt seemed quite please, her lips in a slight turn upwards.

"Well, that was quite enjoyable."

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes closed.

"It seems you and Thomas Ward were getting well acquainted," her aunt commented.

Elizabeth's lips twitched in annoyance, but she said nothing. Leaning her head against the back of the carriage, she prepared herself for the hour ride back to her aunt's, hoping that she would not be forced to engage her aunt in conversation, after spending the entire night dancing and smiling. She blamed the corset for only giving her body half the amount of air it required for each breath, perhaps the lack of oxygen made her do all those insane things.

* * *

Will woke with a start. He had only been asleep for a few minutes when he heard a strange thump, and then a tap. His heart raced in his chest furiously, pounding against his ribcage. He listened again, and there it was.

_Tap tap._

Eyes widening, he realized the sound was coming from the glass door, and as he looked over, he saw the silhouette of a body.

_Someone is trying to break in!_

He was terrified, though he would never admit it. Moving his frozen body, he got onto his hands and knees and reached under his bed, moving the same floorboard and pulling out the same box as he had done a few hours ago. Taking the sword from the box, he stood, trying to breathe easily. He took a step foreword as the tapping persisted. Fear consumed his heart, and he almost darted out the door to find someone, but he knew he could handle this. He was not a little boy anymore.

He was a pirate.

Suddenly feeling an overpowering confidence, Will strode towards the door, sword gripped firmly in his hands. Unlatching the door, he swung it open, the person freezing, straightening upwards as he looked down at Will.

"You're not…" the man began. "Oh bugger."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thank you to all of you who took the time to review! Sorry for the late update; I had mid-terms galore and what-not. Also sorry if this chapter seems short and rushed; I really wanted to get something up for this._

**Disclaimer: They do not belong to me, though I'd like them to.**

**Chapter 2:**

"You're not…" the man began, "Oh bugger."

From the dim light of the full moon that peeked out from behind a cloud, Will looked up to see a fairly tall man, clad in a dark coat, breeches, and knee high boots, along with a hat that was perched firmly on his head. Long hair framed his narrow face, and since every time the man moved, Will figured there had to be some sort of beads or trinkets braided into it, for a _tinkle_ could be heard each time he did so.

Inhaling silently, the boy drew up his courage and held the sword out threateningly, his eyes flashing quickly to see what he might be able to do in case the stranger chose to fight him. He had noticed with dismay that the man had a sword at his waist, as well as a holster; not good. He supposed he could always shout for help, but by the time anyone would reach him he figured he would most likely be dead. He held back a shudder.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" he demanded, hoping his voice did not give away the anxiety he felt. His heart pounded furiously, and he could hear it in his own ears, making him feel even more nervous.

The man seemed to consider the demands for a moment. "M'here to visit an old friend, which, if you're curious, is most certainly not a seven year old laddie," he said carefully, evasively disregarding the boy's first question.

"I'm not seven!" Will exclaimed irately, his nose twitching. "I'm eight!"

Waving a hand, the stranger muttered, "Seven, eight, their both the same. It's a frivolous age, full of wooden swordfights, chasing lasses, and…" He flicked a hand indifferently. "Alas, it's significantly unimportant."

Will's frown deepened. "Get out of here now," he said, hoping the menace in his voice would sound some-what intimidating.

Cocking his head to the side, the man swayed for a moment, before asking with what sounded like genuine interest, "Tell me son, what's your name?"

Will stood, bewildered that he had just ignored his demand completely. Hesitantly, he answered, "William Turner."

The man's swaying froze, and the boy could tell he was chewing something over in his mind. "William Turner," he repeated. "I'd imagine you go by Will."

He blinked, quite startled with the change in subject. Why was he so curious? Nodding, he said, "Aye," rather enjoying the way the word easily slid from his mouth.

The man straightened and cleared his throat, lifting a hand and pointing it at Will. "You would not, by some odd yet auspiciously convenient chance, know a lass by the name of Elizabeth Sw-, Turner?"

"Yes, she's my mother," Will answered after a moment of letting his voice return to him; he had never been more baffled in his life. This man, this _stranger_, knew of his mother, and even her maiden name too, had come to his house at almost midnight, and was questioning him on his family. It was absurd.

Throwing a glance upwards, the man took one finger and placed itself atop of Will's scabbard, lowering it away from him. "How about…" he said, lowering his head to Will's. "You and I discuss some matters indoors, for this weather is exceedingly gloomy and ah, wet." A hand flourished around them, as if to emphasize the fact that it was now sleeting. "Savvy?"

Will was shocked again; however, he gritted his teeth down determinedly, and pushed his sword to the man's neck. "Not until I have your name," he insisted.

The man remained quiet.

"It's only fair," Will reasoned, guessing that the man could not really be bad, for he had not threatened or made an attempt to hurt him yet. "I told you my name."

The man cleared his throat. "Captain Jack Sparrow."

Before Will could cry out with recognition, Jack covered the boy's mouth with a hand. "Do me a favor son, and keep those maws of yours shut. I can't afford have the whole British navy after me now." He flashed a grin and turned Will around, stepping into the warmth of the room. It took a moment for Will to realize what happened, but once he did, he closed the door that led onto the veranda, and quickly lit a few lanterns.

_Jack Sparrow! In _my_ home!_ He was giddy with the feeling that one as infamous as Jack was paying his mother a visit, that was, assuming his mother was his 'old friend'. She had told him dozens of stories about her and her adventures with the roguish pirate; being marooned on an island with him, sailing under the same flags to find the Dead Man's Chest, and even battling with him against the East India Trading Company. The man was practically the incarnation of freedom and adventure, and his persona did nothing but embellish the fact; his dark brown, almost black hair worn down, various trinkets tied into it. His comfortable fitting clothes, seemingly ready for any storm he had to face, or any venture he had underway. He held a nonchalant sense to himself, though he also held a sense of confidence, his posture relaxed, swaying slightly as his kohl-lined brown eyes glazed about the room.

"You're Jack Sparrow," Will said, in awe as he re-lit the charred wood in the hearth.

Wagging a finger, the pirate corrected, "It's _Captain_ Jack Sparrow, mate."

The boy's eyes widened as he stepped away from the now burning wood and looked at Jack, whose eyebrows narrowed in confusion as he looked himself over.

"Do I have something on me?" he inquired in confusion.

The child shook his head, mouth still agape.

"Might want to close your mouth lad, that is, of course, unless you plan on catching flies," Jack commented with amusement.

Blushing, Will grinned apologetically. "How did you get here?" he asked, as his mind told him this _had_ to be a dream, though in a small recess of his mind, he knew it was not, and the thought thrilled him.

"I sailed, of course," Jack stated obviously. "How else would I've crossed the pond?"

Will's eyes became even larger, (if that was possible) and he stared at Jack with disbelief. "The _Pearl_?" he asked with excitement. "The _Black Pearl_ is here?" He knew all about the infamous _Black Pearl_ and its breath-taking ventures and beauty.

"Aye," the pirate answered quickly and then made a face. "Well, not _here_, here; it's down the coast a bit. Couldn't alert the whole bloody town I was coming. I walked here by me onsies," he announced proudly.

"Can we go see it?" Will inquired with excitement. The _Black Pearl!_

Jack grinned; the boy was practically the spitting image of his mother. "Aye son, but you'll have to wait a few days; ol' Jack needs to have a talk with your mum."

Nodding, Will watched as Jack removed his wet coat and hat throwing them over a chair. He hovered in place for a moment, and then merely sat on the carpeted floor, motioning for Will to sit by him. He did so, brushing his brown locks away from his face, and looking at Jack with wide curious eyes.

"Is it true that you really saved my mother from drowning?"

Startled by the question, the pirate looked at Will, his head cocked to the side. "Aye, that I did do," he remembered with a slight grin.

"And is it also true that you two were forced to walk the plank, and were stranded on an island?"

Jack's grin grew wider and he gave a quick nod. "That we did too."

Will made a face for a moment. "How did you get off?" he persisted. "And please don't say sea turtles," he added when Jack opened his mouth to answer.

"Hasn't your mum told you how?" the older man asked with a frown.

"Yes, but I want to here it from _you_," the child replied with a shy grin.

Frown curling upwards into a smile, Jack leaned backwards casually against the side of the bed, his knees bent upward. "'S'nothing more interesting than hearing a tale by a legend himself, eh?" Jack asked with a quirky grin. "Alright lad, I'll tell you, though I'd imagine your mum might have told it a tad differently."

Will nodded eagerly and waited for the pirate to give his story a quick think, before jumping into it.

He began with the very beginning, about how his mother and him had been captured by an 'old bag of worthless flesh and bones,' (though when asked whom it was, he admitted with a grimace that it was Hector Barbossa). He then quickly skimmed through of how Will's father, William Turner II, had arrived and had made a deal with Barbossa wrongly, ending up in having the brave Captain Jack Sparrow and Elizabeth walk the plank, and then swim to a nearby island with only a pistol with one shot.

"Why one shot?" Will asked, drinking in every detail of the story.

"It's in the Code," Jack replied. "Essentially, it was for those scallywags who are desperate to end their lives in a non-slow and painful way, if you catch me drift."

Will blanched slightly, and Jack continued.

He told of the rum stash, and the song Will's mother taught him. He even gave a quick briefing on passing out, and the conversation (or what he could remember of it) they had before hand.

The boy giggled and gasped at all the right parts, and even humored Jack by dropping his jaw in horror when told about the dreadful rum burning. Jack even managed to crack a smile when reciting that part, for the look on Will's face was so much like his mother's, he could not help but grin. By the end of the tale, Will was almost jumping in spot, begging for another story.

Conceding to his request, Jack almost forgot about the reason he had came to Plymouth, he was enjoying himself so much. So it was then, after he had finished telling Will of the monstrous cursed skeleton pirates, that he finally asked, "Your mum isn't here by any chance, is she?"

The smile on Will's face immediately disappeared, and he frowned, his eyes narrowing faintly. "No."

Finding the child's sudden change in mood slightly startling, Jack asked, "Where is she then, pray tell?

"A ball."

Jack frowned. "Ah. Out and about with Plymouth's most affluent populace, though not by choice though, I'd imagine."

"You can't stay here tonight you know," Will said, hastily changing the subject. "My aunt would have you arrested in a heartbeat if you were to be found here."

The pirate thought for a moment. "Well, it seems like we've found ourselves in an extraordinarily bothersome predicament."

The two remained silent, deep in thought, until Will's head snapped up suddenly, a broad grin on his face.

"Tomorrow! The caves! Mum promised to take me, and you can meet us there!" he exclaimed, jumping up and rushing to his desk.

Jack watched as he began fumbling through a drawer. "Slow down lad, your head might just burst at the rate you're going. Now what's this about these 'caves'?"

Will withdrew a parchment and a inkbottle from the drawer, as well as a pen. "Down by the shore," he explained, rolling out the parchment and beginning to sketch something, "there is these caves mum takes me to and we practice there sword fighting, because my aunt would never allow it. She promised me this morning to take me tomorrow… well today really." He glanced at the clock; it was half past twelve. "You can meet us there tomorrow, and then you can talk to her! And maybe even you and I could practice," he added hopefully.

Jack listened carefully, and then his lips spread into grin. "I knew you were a clever lad!" he praised. "Never had doubts about you."

Will grinned, his face turning pink. Placing the pen in the inkbottle, he got up from his chair and walked towards Jack, handing him the paper. "Here's how to get there from here," he said when Jack began observing the roughly drawn map.

Folding the paper and slipping it into a pocket, Jack opened his mouth to talk when a loud knock was heard.

"Will?" It was a maid at the door! "Will, who the devil are you talking to? Open this door!"

Both pirate and child jumped. Will looked around frantically, his eyes settling on the door to the terrace. "You can't be here!" he hissed, pushing the pirate towards the door. Jack stumbled out, creating a lot of noise, and Will threw his coat and hat out after him and shut the glass door, before rushing back to his bedroom door, his hands shaking as he unlocked it and opened it, a large most likely overly done grin on his face.

The maid looked at him with a shocked expression, but it quickly hardened and became stern. "Who were you talking too?"

"No one!" he answered rather quickly, hoping that Jack had the brains to move away from the transparent glass. "Just myself."

The maid pursed her lips. "You have wet marks all over the floor. Now I'll ask again, who has been in here?"

Thinking quickly, Will answered, "It was… a cat, yes! I opened the door to get some fresh air before I went to bed, and a stray cat snuck in! It was a really big one too." Guiltily, Will ducked his head. "I'm sorry I did not get you; I thought I could handle it myself without waking anyone," he said, his voice thick with shame.

She considered the story for a moment, before giving a small smile. "That's quite alright," she said, and Will almost laughed in relief. "Your mum isn't home yet; how about you get into bed? Your aunt shan't like it if she finds you awake at this hour."

"Alright," Will agreed. "But… could I have a glass of water first?" He crossed his fingers, hoping she would say yes.

Thankfully, she did, and told him she would be back in a few minutes. Will poked his head out the door to watch her descend the stairs, and once she was gone from sight, he dashed to the veranda door and threw it open, his eyes searching and finding Jack standing over by the railing.

"A cat?" he asked with amusement. "A really big one? No, I don't see feline in me at all mate."

Will grinned. "Sorry. I had to make something up, didn't I? And it worked." He glance over his shoulder. "Be there by noon," he said quietly, not wanting to alert anyone else of his visitor. "You promise you'll be there?"

Jack smirked. "I swear on pane of death I'll be there," he said with his hand over were his heart was.

Beaming, Will heard the maid beginning to ascend the stairs. "You better go, and don't get caught." Before he could give Jack time to answer, he shut the door, and bounced over to his bed, giddy.

The maid came back with a glass of water and a rag. He watched uninterestedly as she wiped the water from the ground, sipping at the water occasionally. When she was done, she bid him goodnight, making him promise to fall asleep immediately. He promised, and she blew out a candle and left his room.

Will opened his eyes, listening to the sleet as it pinged off the roof, his heart racing. In a few hours, he would be down at the caves, practicing with one of the most skilled sword fighters he would ever meet most likely. He could not believe it.

He made a decision that he would not tell his mother of their visitor, nor would he tell about the meeting that would take place; why not surprise her? He hoped she would be as excited as he was to see Jack. He had already grown a deep affection for the pirate in a little more then an hour; maybe he could be like a father to him.

Finding himself tired, Will turned over and sighed, and drifted to sleep, his last thought ringing in his mind.

_This has been the most exciting Christmas ever._

**

* * *

**

"Well, I am proud of you Elizabeth; your behavior was infinitely better tonight than this afternoon. I shall call for Thomas Ward to visit sometime soon, for his family is most agreeable," Aunt Ethel said as she and Elizabeth stood at the foot of the stairs.

"Yes well," Elizabeth replied through pursed lips, "I shall be most overjoyed to see him again." _Perhaps next time I can strangle his perfect throat._ "I think I shall call it an end to my day. Thank you for the wonderful holiday," she lied. _Maybe next Christmas you'll perform a miracle and smile._

Her aunt nodded. "Good night then, Elizabeth."

"Good night Aunt Ethel."

Without another word, Elizabeth dashed upstairs and into her room, where she shut the door, and leaned up against it with her eyes closed, sighing.

Finally, Christmas was over.

Opening her eyes, she immediately began clawing at her hair, removing the dozens of pins that had held her once perfect hair in place. She sifting her fingers through her now free locks, and walked towards the front board of her bed, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dim glow of a single candelabra in her room.

As she continued running her slim fingers through her brown hair, she tried to push the days events away from her mind. The ball had been horrible; she had spent the majority of the event trying to avoid Thomas Ward, the arrogant Admiral's son but he kept managing to find her, asking her infuriating questions, and worse of all, requesting another waltz around the room. She had wanted so badly hit him that night with any close by hard object, but it almost felt as if her aunt was holding a chain connected to her wrist, yanking it each time she was about to behave wrongly. It was maddening, being forced to engage people in tedious conversation all night, not being able to state her true opinion on any of the manners which were discussed at the festivities.

Elizabeth snorted, imagining the reactions to what she had truly wanted to say.

_Actually, I find what you call a hat to be on your head to resemble that of deceased black rat._

_Quite the contrary; Mr. McKinley's novel was dull, to me. In fact, if it weren't that my aunt was sitting next to me, I would have thrown it in the fire knowing that the world became a slightly less dreary place._

She almost grinned when she imagined her aunt's reaction, something that would have been far worse then a thousand waltzes with Thomas Ward, though she knew it would have been well worth it.

Elizabeth wondered where Will was at the moment; most likely asleep. After all, it was almost one o'clock. She considered going to tell him she was home, but Will slept like a rock sometimes, and even his great aunt screeching at him would not wake him. She hoped his evening was better then hers; perhaps he found company with a few of the servants who were quite fond of him, that was, of course, when they were not covering up some devious act he had done.

Exhaling again, she felt as if she could just collapse immediately onto her bed without a single care about ruining her gown, but a tiny voice in her head (a voice that sounded oddly like her aunts) reminded her that she would be reprimanded in the morning for it, and finding herself unable to stand hearing another lecture from her aunt in the morning, she began to remove the dress, her hands fumbling with the strings tiredly.

Once the dress and corset were off, she slipped on a gown, inhaling deeply, her ribs enjoying the feeling of expanding again. Sliding under the covers, she closed her eyes, and for some infuriating reason she felt her eyes begin to sting with tears. She hated her life here so much. She just wanted to be free again. Was this not the season of miracles?

_Then why hasn't any angel come down to save me yet?_

Rubbing her eyes, she turned over, determined to fall into a peaceful uninterrupted sleep. And she did.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed, for you guys really keep me going when I'm doubting this story! I'm actually having incredible fun writing this. I'm sorry for the late updates; I'm going to try to keep them coming. I had a lot of stuff to deal with; tests, projects, lab write-ups, and getting teeth painfully extracted from my mouth._

_As for the story, it is my great regret to tell everyone that I have merged this story in with another I have been working on, so this might be a long fanfic! Sad, right? Well Zay, I guess you're getting a novel instead of a four-shot! _

**For the story, I am going by the version of Will's curse that allows him to see Elizabeth on ten year intervals. Keep that it mind.**

**Chapter Three:**

That morning seemed to go by painfully slow to Will.

When he had attempted to go into his mother's room to see if she were awake, his great aunt had stopped him, telling him that she had had a late night and was allowed to (for once) sleep in late. She had then taken him downstairs and they had a silent breakfast together, Will entertaining himself by secretly placing a piece of egg on his great aunt's chair when she had gotten up to get something. When she returned and sat on the substance, he had to use all of his force to not laugh as she yelped in anger, telling Will that he should have told her about the food. He claimed that he had not noticed it, and he was sent to his room.

As he walked up the stairs, he noticed that none of the maids or servants had told her about the food either, even after they witnessed Will commit the deed. He grinned.

Stepping onto the final landing of the stairs, he walked down the hallway quietly, and cracked his mother's door open. She was leaning upwards, beginning to awaken from a deep slumber, her hair ruffled from sleep. Opening the door further, Will walked in.

Elizabeth's head looked up for the trace of the sound, and upon seeing Will, her face broke out into a grin. "Will!" Quickly, she got out of the bed, though she stumbled, still hazy with sleep.

"Hi mother," he said, greeting her with a hug, his face full of child innocence. "I'm glad you're finally awake; I was forced to eat with Aunt Tight-Knickers."

"William!" Elizabeth scolded, though her eyes sparkled with amusement; she sometimes forgot how much he knew for an eight year old. "Where did you hear such language?"

Will snorted. "You have the mouth of a sailor mum, who do you think I heard it from?"

Elizabeth held back a very eager grin. "You should not repeat it though." Sitting back on her bed, she pushed her hair from her face. "Now, was your evening last night as terrible as mine?"

_Anything but terrible!_ "Oh yes," he lied. "I played chess with Jonathan."

"He still hasn't beaten you yet, has he?"

The child shook his head.

His mother grinned.

"We're still going today, aren't we?" inquired Will suddenly.

Elizabeth's brow furrowed for a moment, and then softened as she gave a small 'Oh'. "Of course," she answered with a grin. "Why wouldn't we?"

"I don't know," Will admitted, "I thought you might be tired from the night before. But please, can we leave soon?" It was already ten o'clock, and it took at least a half an hour to get down to the shore.

His mother nodded, and told Will to go get dressed while she went down to grab a quick breakfast. Once he was gone, she ran a brush through her hair and went downstairs.

Quickly downing a plate of poached eggs and a biscuit, Elizabeth went in search of her aunt, finding her in the parlor, a large book in her hands. She did not lift her eyes from the book as her niece walked towards her, but instead snapped, "Yes?"

Forcing a smile, Elizabeth clasped her hands together behind her back. "I would just like to inform you that Will and I shall be gone for the day. We're heading into the market and then he would like go down to the docks to look at the merchant ships."

Her aunt remained hidden behind the book. "You spend too much time with that boy. He needs to learn to be on his own."

Elizabeth remained quiet, though her fist clenched and unclenched in anger.

"However, you may go, for I'm also going out today to have tea with the Rosendale's." The book was lowered, and she shot Elizabeth a hard look. "Stay out of trouble."

Gritting her teeth, Elizabeth muttered her thanks, (she was then scolded for not talking loud enough) and went up to her room and into her closet. Pushing past a few small boxes, she dragged out a large chest and produced a key from a drawer which she opened the chest with. Setting the key aside, she lifted the lid of the trunk.

Inside the trunk were bundles of clothes and apparel; breeches, vests, knee-high suede boots, white cotton shirts, as well as a belts and a coat. Smiling, she kneeled down and withdrew the black boots, along with a shirt, black breeches, and a vest. She had discreetly bought these a few years ago when she had begun teaching Will how to handle a sword for it was nigh impossible to swordfight with a dress on. Setting the clothes aside, she moved to close the chest, but a flash of black and gold caught her eyes. Hesitantly, she brushed a few pieces of clothing aside, and pulled out the very last, (and the heaviest) clothing from the box.

It was the Chinese garb she had worn a little less than nine years ago.

Lifting the clothing from the box, she laid it across her lap, smoothing the wrinkles from it, her fingers tracing the slightly faded gold patterns sewn into it. She fingered the strong scales that spread from shoulder to shoulder, dipping to the middle of the chest. Memories rushed to her at such a quick rate, she felt herself slightly dizzy.

The battle with the East India Trading Company; she had fought them in this, made pirate history in this. The faint smell of salt, sweat, and something that only belonged out on sea lingered in the air, the aroma never completely leaving the garment, and Elizabeth found the smell comforting. Though the memories would tend to sadden her, she could not help but reminisce.

She had been married in this – married during the middle of a fierce battle in a dangerous yet enticingly beautiful maelstrom. Married to William Turner, who was bound to sail the seas for eternity, coming on land to see her only once every ten years. She still had one more year to wait for him, and the thought saddened her incredibly. How was she to live like this, seeing her husband only a few days throughout her life? The thought was unbearably cruel sounding. She could hardly last the first nine years by herself. Granted, she had William her son, but she also craved adult companionship too, something she could not gain from anyone in the blasted town.

Her hand rested on the center of the slightly scratchy clothing. She remembered the entire battle as if it did not happen years ago, but only days ago instead. She remembered the marriage on the deck of the Black Pearl, and then watching her husband die before her eyes, only minutes later on the _Dutchman_. Leaving his side was never a thought that registered into her mind at the time, but Jack Sparrow had made her, and it ultimately saved her life in the end. He had grabbed her, and together they flew off the _Dutchman_ on a makeshift parachute, her arms wrapped around his waist, her head in his chest, watching as the _Dutchman_ dipped below the water, her husband along with it. Her world had fallen apart at the moment, her heart torn in two. She could do nothing but try to find comfort in the man who saved her, the man who had _chosen_ to save her, even after she had sent him to his own death.

She had always known him to be a good man, and he had countless times, proven her right.

A knocking at the door startled her, and she jumped to her feet, throwing the Chinese garb in the chest, though to her relief, it was only Will.

"Are you ready yet?" he asked impatiently.

Shutting the chest, Elizabeth grabbed her clothes and set them on the bed. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

**

* * *

**

After stealthily sneaking out of the house without being seen, Elizabeth and Will walked down a long set of muddy paths, long coats concealing the sword attached to their waists and for Elizabeth, covering the un-ladylike clothes she was clad in. She also had a leather bag strapped to her back, for carrying lunch and some flasks of water, as well as a few coins. They past few people, for they were walking on the outskirts of the town, following a dirt path through a plateau where they would then meet a slightly steep and rocky hill. Will trotted ahead of Elizabeth, a smile never leaving his face, even when he did, by accident, fall into a pile of hard snow. If it were any other child, she would have grown suspicious of the behavior, but Will was Will; you were always suspicious around him, no matter how he acted.

The cold air lashed at their cheeks, causing them to redden and their noses to grow runny, but the two trudged onward, both looking forward to the day for different reasons; Elizabeth was excited to get out of the house and do something exhilarating, while Will was ecstatic to see Jack again and watch how his mother would react to his sudden and startling appearance.

"Mum," Will asked, jumping over a few rocks, "Tell me what Jack Sparrow was like."

His mother glanced at him, and looked back down, watching her footing carefully, her slightly heavy breath coming out in cold wisps of air. "You know Will; I've explained him countless times."

"Yes, but I want to hear about him again," he persisted. "Please?"

Giving a small sigh, Elizabeth pulled her coat closer to herself. "He's Jack Sparrow; daft, yet also clever, I must say. You never know if he's on your side or not, and he'll do whatever it takes to get what he wants." She stopped, and Will had noticed her voice begin to sound gloomy. "He loves the sea, the _Black Pearl_, and freedom." She gave a small laugh. "And he's saved me countless times. He's a good man."

Her son thought for a moment. "Do you miss him?"

Elizabeth was silent for a long while; the only sound audible was the crashing of the waves against the nearby shore. Her son waited patiently, finding her silence interesting; what would it be like when she saw him again today? Would she be happy, or upset? After a long while in deep thought himself, she answered his question.

"Yes, I do."

Her voice held a tone to him that was unfamiliar, but he did not press the subject, merely nodding his head and saying, "Oh."

The remainder of their trip to the caves took no more than fifteen minutes. Will fell a few times on the way down the rocky almost cliff-like hill, but he made it down with only a few scratched knees and small cut on his hand. His mother suppressed laughs at his falls, but he knew she found it deeply amusing. When they had finally made it to the bottom of the hill and onto the sandy rocky beach, they were both out of breath, panting heavily.

"How long has it been since we last came here?" Elizabeth asked, her voice breathless.

Will shrugged his shoulders, reaching into the bag his mother had brought and pulled out a flask full of water. He drank some, and then offered it to Elizabeth who accepted gratefully.

After a short break, Will cleared his throat. "Let's keep going."

And so the two continued onward slowly, stepping carefully over rock crevices that could surely twist one of their ankles if not careful. No one was this far down the shore; they were at least half a mile from the main coast of Plymouth, the only creatures to keep them company being the various sea birds that flew over head, some landing nearby, waiting hopefully for a piece of bread. Will attempted to chase a few, but he only managed to get his foot stuck in hole his mother had to pull him out of.

Will was almost beginning to think they had gotten lost, when he peeked around an outcrop of rocks and saw it; the gaping mouth to a large uninhabited cave, wide enough to fit at least a hundred people, maybe even more. A grin broke out on his face, and he quickly ran ahead, faintly hearing the shouts of his mother's warnings that he might fall. Ignoring them, he went to the entrance of the cave, poking his head in, his eyes eagerly searching the darkness.

Nothing.

His grin twitched, but he strolled in nevertheless. Jack was probably on his way - he had most likely just found Will's sketchy map hard to read. His hand at his waist, Will turned around and faced his mother, who was walking into the mouth of the cave. Grinning, the boy withdrew his new sword and twirled it a bit, enjoying how comfortable it felt.

Setting her bag down, Elizabeth removed a few pieces of flint, and walked by a large pile of wood they had gathered together a few months ago. She chose a few sticks and made a small pile of them, and then striked the flint together, creating sparks. After a few tries, a spark flew onto the wood, and gradually grew into a fire; it was small enough to be unnoticeable, yet large enough to radiate a noticeable amount of heat. Grinning, she stepped away and faced her son.

"Ready Will?" she asked, unsheathing her own sword and observing it.

"Aye, _King_ Turner," he taunted in return, his head flashing over his shoulder distractedly.

The two smirked, and began to circle each other, both contemplating their 'enemies' first move.

Will lunged forward first, and the battle had begun.

They danced around each other, lunging, parrying, and thrusting everywhere, trying to disarm their opponent. Their movements could be called somewhat similar, for Elizabeth had taught Will everything she knew, but they each had their own strategy and technique that could be noticeably different at times; Elizabeth tended to be more on the patient side, her movements calculated and thought-out, while Will was more impulsive, everywhere at once, though also clever, using his surroundings to aid him.

Will could not help throwing glances over his shoulder every so often, something his mother had notice him do with unease. He almost seemed to be waiting for something, or even someone, and she began to grow slightly anxious.

"What's wrong?" she asked, easily parrying a blow.

"Nothing!" was his reply, along with a loud clang as their swords met together.

Their practice lasted a while, neither of the two getting the upper hand. Will began to tire, his hopes of Jack coming dwindling as well his energy. He supposed he should not have been too surprised; after all, he was a pirate. Keeping promises to anyone, especially children, was not something they did, but he could not help but feel disappointed; he had grown a bond with the pirate in a mere hour, and the thought of not seeing him again made him considerably upset.

Elizabeth had begun backing Will towards the rear of the cave, her lashes coming more forceful then before; while Will had used his energy in the beginning to attempt to defeat her quickly, she had conserved hers, playing defensive. She was not fighting her hardest, for even though Will was good, and a quick learner, he could not best her if she were to give it everything she had. Although she had begun to grow tired, her muscles aching for rest, she knew that Will would not stop until someone was victorious, and knowing this, she decided to end their practice for a bit.

With ease, she thrust her own cutlass forward, and knocking it to the side of Will's, catching him by surprise. She smirked and pushed upward, sending his blade to the ground with a _clang,_ the tip of her sword flying to his chest. His mouth hung open, and his hands flew up in the air with defeat.

Elizabeth laughed, pulling the weapon from his chest and sheathing it, ready to commend him on his improvement.

"Well love, I must say I'm impressed; besting a child in the art of sword fighting is quite imposing for the _infamous_ King Swann."

The words echoed throughout the cavern until they became nothing more than history on the stone walls. Elizabeth froze, her entire body straightening at the sound, her heart seeming to have stopped all together; that voice – it sounded all too familiar.

After a gruelingly long minute, Will and Elizabeth's heads turned and looked simultaneously towards the source of the voice, Will's brightening with a grin as he cried out, "Jack!" Quickly, he jumped up and ran past his mother over to the pirate.

Patting Will on the shoulder, Jack greeted, "Long time no see mate."

"I thought you weren't going to come," he admitted sheepishly.

"I'm a man of me word boy; rest assured, it only took me a tad longer than aspired to get here because I happened to ah, _misplace_ a rather important map I was given not too long ago."

Will made a face. "You lost it."

Jack grinned. "I made it here, didn't I?" Lifting his head from Will, he looked at Elizabeth whose hand had been brought to her mouth in shock.

"Why hello love," he cooed with a gold grin, leaning casually on the entrance of the cave. "Fancy seeing you here, and all that."

Elizabeth took her hand away from her mouth, trying to find something to say, but she only managed to stand there, too stunned to form anything close to words in her mind. _Jack_…

Pealing himself from the wall, he swaggered towards her, his eyes raking up and down her body quickly, until resting finally on her rich brown eyes. Pausing a few feet from her, his bottom lip started to push forward into a pout when she remained silent.

"What?" he questioned, "No 'Oh hello Jack, how have you been? I haven't seen you for years, et cetera, et cetera'?"

Somehow finding her voice, Elizabeth breathed in deeply to steady herself and said, "Yes, I have not seen you for years; almost _nine_ years, Jack."

He grinned at the sound of his name coming from her mouth; the way she said it, with a hard '_ck'_ at the end almost made it appear as if she were upset at him. "Far too long of a time for ones such as ourselves to not visit one another, being the old pals we are," he replied with an agreeing shake of his head. "Long enough for you to have chosen to join back into a world of prim and proper nonsense, as it were." His grin grew as her eyes narrowed to two dark slits, flashing with anger; his teasing had worked.

"You know _nothing_ of what I've been through these past years," she growled, her eyes glancing at Will who looked at her strangely. "Trying to raise a child on ones own is not a simple task Jack, and I needed all the help I could get, even if that meant… retying knots that had once been undone." She held his gaze firmly, her lips pressed together. Her frustration had won over her shock, her mind finally comprehending that Jack Sparrow was standing right in front of her. "This was the only place I could go to," she added her tone softening slightly. "If I had returned to Port Royal, I would have surely faced the gallows."

"There was always Shipwreck Cove," Jack pointed out.

Elizabeth scoffed. "Barely a place to raise a child, Jack."

"I was raised there love." He frowned.

"Hardly surprising."

Will observed as Jack and his mother bantered on. Though Elizabeth's chin stuck out proudly, her face hard as she scoffed at Jack, Will could sense the change in mood was a good thing, for she was slowly sinking back into her old self that she had tried to cover up when she moved back to England. Jack stood with ease, his eyes that seemed darker then the night before boring into Elizabeth, a smirk hovering over his lips. The two appeared to have taken a on a different persona in the presence of each other; Will's mother was cautious, a thick shell around her, while Jack was more teasing, provoking Elizabeth as much as he could.

Will's attention was brought back to the conversation when Elizabeth sighed. "It was not safe for you to come here; there's wanted signs all throughout England with your name on them."

Jack appeared unaffected by the could-be life threatening news. "I'm wanted all over love, by men and woman alike; everyone wants the dashing Captain Jack Sparrow in their arms."

"Jack." She gave him a firm look, her arms crossing over her chest. "You should not have come here."

Though seeing him in front of her had lifted her spirits considerably, a part of her in the back of her mind told her that it was not safe for her to be in the presence of him too long; he could corrupt her and her promise to Will.

"Could not be helped." His playful tone turned serious. "Curiosity seems to have brought me back to something I ran from, and this time I'm not running from it." He looked at her with sincere eyes. "Count on that Elizabeth."

Her eyes cast a side-long glance at Will. "Where's the _Pearl_?" she inquired, her tone shifting along with the topic.

Frowning slightly, he answered, "Docked further down."

"You said we could go see it, didn't you Jack?" Will intervened, his voice hopeful.

Taking his eyes off Elizabeth, Jack looked down at the boy. "Aye son." He glanced at Elizabeth. "That is, if your dear mum approves, which I see no reason for her not to."

Will turned to his mother, his eyes wide and hopeful. Not having the heart to say no, Elizabeth agreed, and told him they would see it in a day or two. She found herself eager to see the _Pearl_ again, and her face broke out into a grin. Her son then persisted to beg Jack to practice with him. He agreed, and Elizabeth sat down to observe, poking at her tiny fire.

"So lad." Jack removed his hat and tossed it at Elizabeth whom caught it in surprise. He flashed her a gold and ivory grin. "What has your mum taught you so far?"

Almost timidly, Will showed the pirate a variety of tricks and moves. Jack appeared to listen with interest, nodding and agreeing, commending the child when deserved. Will beamed when praised, a smile never leaving his face. Elizabeth felt her heart warm, watching the two; she had never imagined Jack being good with children, but she was wrong. He was patient, fixing Will's stance or pointing out hints that would aid him. Soon, the two where clanging away at each other slowly, both having shed their jackets even though it was freezing inside the cavern. Elizabeth draped them over herself, trying to ignore the exotic aroma that accompanied Jack's coat.

It was certainly a new experience for Will, she had concluded. He had never had an older male figure in his life; it was always him and her. Though she cherished the time spent with him, Elizabeth knew that her son would always lack a father figure, for his own father would only see him a few days throughout his life. Watching the two with a half-hearted grin, she drew the coats closer to herself.

Perhaps Jack could be a type of role model for him. Well, except for the excessive drinking and the fact that he hardly abided by the law.

But she shook her head. _He must leave._

After what must have been two hours of continuous practice, both Jack and Will sat by down, taking the bread and cheese Elizabeth offered.

"Got a smart pirate lad there Lizzie," Jack commented, pulling out a flask that most likely contained rum and taking a large swig of it.

Elizabeth took a bite of the bread. "It does run in his blood."

Jack offered the flask to her who looked at it incredulously.

"Do you always have a spot of that vile drink on you?"

He grinned. "Tis a stipulation love." Throwing a piece of cheese in his mouth, he added, "You shouldn't turn it down; I only carry me best rum on me." He shook the flask in front of her as if to change her mind, though pulled it back with the look he received.

A minute passed by in silence.

"So Jack," Elizabeth began, handing back him and Will's coats, "did you ever discover the Fountain of Youth and gain immortality?"

He froze for a moment, and then quickly glanced at her. "That adventure was delayed, to me and the crew's great regret." His tone held obvious reluctance to answer.

"How?" Will wanted to know.

Jack frowned at the pair, answering with hesitance, "I was in search of something else, as it were."

"You were?" Elizabeth asked, slightly confused. "What?"

His nose twitched. "A ship."

It took a moment for Elizabeth to understand, and once she did, she exclaimed, "Oh Jack, please do not tell me you lost the _Pearl_ again."

Unable to control himself, Will broke out into a fit a giggles when he saw the stubborn look on Jack's face, while Elizabeth covered her mouth to conceal a smile.

"Ha bloody ha-ha," he muttered sarcastically. "Are you both done yet?"

When Will's laughing ceased, and Elizabeth could manage to look at Jack with utmost sincerity, she asked, "Jack, how did you manage that?"

"It was not my fault," he said defensively. "I went into Tortuga to take care of some ah, _business_," –he looked at Elizabeth and gave her a smirk- "and left the ship's care in the hands of Gibbs." His smirk fell. "When I came back, I discovered that Gibbs had drunk himself into oblivion, and that while he was intoxicated, that _perfidious_, _feculent,_ _cretin_ Barbossa had sailed off with my ship…" It sounded as if he was going to continue, but he stopped.

"Again," Elizabeth added.

With a roll of his eyes, he muttered, "Aye, _again_."

Will waited for Jack to continue, but when he didn't, he pressed, "How did you get it back?"

"That my boy," Jack answered, "is another tale for another day."

Before Will could plead, Jack looked at Elizabeth with an innocent grin. "What say you Lizzie, to a little practice of our own, eh? I promise I won't be rough." His grin grew, his eyes gleaming roguishly.

Immediately abandoning his idea on begging Jack to tell the story, Will turned to his mother and grinned. "Oh please say yes; I've never seen you swordfight with anyone before."

As the meaning of Jack's last comment registered, Elizabeth blushed furiously, standing up and unsheathing her sword with steely eyes. "I would be concerned with going too easy on me Captain," she growled, her eyes following him as he righted himself and drew his sword, "for even though I've only had Will for my practice, I have improved."

"Of course love," Jack purred in a velvety low tone.

And then it began.

If watching Elizabeth and her son practice was interesting to an observer, it was nothing compared to watching her and Jack have a go at one another; Elizabeth had immediately lunged foreword, her anger showing through her rough and quick motions. Finding her fury to be anything but surprising, Jack blocked with ease, though realized only within moments of the 'battle' that he might actually have to use some effort to defeat her; she had not been lying. She had gotten quite better.

Will stood well away from the flashing blades, retreating to the far side of the cave and watching in awe. Never had he seen anyone swordfight before, and what was happening in front of him at that moment was incredible! Jack Sparrow and Elizabeth Turner, both pirate legends, interlocked in a fierce battle for both the bragging rights, and the pride of being victorious, neither wanting to be the first to give up. His mother had a determined look carved into her face, her mouth set in a straight line and her eyes filled with concentration as she parried and blocked, while Jack appeared to be moving effortlessly, a mischievous grin never leaving his lips.

Elizabeth could not recall the last time she had ever had a true swordfight with someone equal in skill, or even better. Her muscles began to ache far sooner then she would have liked, her movements becoming slower as the battle dragged on. She could her Will's faint cheers behind the loud clashing of the swords, rooting both her and Jack on, apparently unsure of he would like to see win more. She silently admired the leisurely way Jack moved, however began to hate it too, knowing that her fatigue was beginning to show while it appeared he had not even broken a sweat. The temperature in the cavern seemed to have risen dramatically as the skirmish continued, both fighters now beginning to sweat.

"Tired yet love?" Jack taunted as he blocked a blow that would have surely cut into his upper arm.

Elizabeth snorted in response, dodging his blade swiftly. She pushed herself in her mind, silently cheering nonsensical praises to herself each time she did something correct, and condemning herself when she did something wrong. She had to win. She refused to let Jack be triumphant.

Finding an open spot, Elizabeth grinned gleefully, quickly sliding foreword to place the flat of he sword on Jack's throat. Before she could comprehend what was happening however, she felt the inside of her foot catch something and she was sent flying toward the ground, something cold landing on her neck. Rolling onto her back, she found Jack standing over her with a mischievous smirk that she surely would have smacked right off his face if she were standing.

Taking the cutlass away from her neck, he offered a hand. "Touché, Miss. Swann."

Scowling at him, Elizabeth swatted his hand away and pushed herself up. Her eyes darting up and down him quickly, she realized he had purposely tripped her. "You cheated!"

"Pirate," was his reply, his eyes laughing at her indignant look.

Even though she knew he was teasing her, her tongue seemed to turn to mush suddenly, her heart fracturing; was that not the last word he had said to her when she left him for the kraken? Not wanting to show how he had unconsciously stirred up old painful memories, she swallowed quickly, and managed to say, "I believed that we were going to have an honest fight here, even with our- _your_ blackened heart."

Making a _tsk_ sound Jack shook his head. "Ah Lizzie, your heart is just as blackened and filled with the liability of performing dreadful deeds as much as mine or any other scoundrel pirate's is. The opportunity to deceive me was open, yet you choose not to use it, while I, on the other hand, took full advantage of it."

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "I plan on teaching my son the right and respectful way to win his battles, Captain Sparrow, not how to con his way into succeeding," she said with a hard tone, her eyes glued to his.

"Conning is such a blunt way to look at it love," Jack told her. "I prefer to look at it as taking advantage of other's imprudent actions."

Before Elizabeth could retort some rude comment back to him, Will appeared between the two, his bright eyes looking up at the two adults.

"That was amazing!" he declared, throwing his hands in the air for extra emphasize. "You must do that again."

Shooting a glance at Jack, Elizabeth looked over her shoulder, noticing the sun setting rather quickly. "Perhaps another time Will; we should be heading back."

Will made a whine of protest.

"Don't worry lad," Jack said with a reassuring tone. "Come here tomorrow roughly around the same time as today, and I shall take you and your mum to the _Pearl_."

Both son and mother turned to Jack. "Really?"

Obviously amused, the pirate nodded to confirm the idea.

"That alright with you love?" he asked Elizabeth.

She looked at him with surprise. "Of course," she said, placing a hand on Will's shoulder.

The three stood for a moment grinning, until Jack looked over Elizabeth's shoulder and pointed. "Best put that out."

After dowsing the fire with some water and packing their bags, Elizabeth, Will, and Jack stepped out of the cave and into the cool windy air. The waves crashed against the shore noisily, and wind howled at their backs; Will shivered and stood close to his mother, noticing with a frown that a few white flakes were drifting from the sky.

"M'heading off love," Jack almost yelled, trying to be heard above the noise. "Tomorrow then?" He held out a hand.

Glancing down at his hand, she took it, nodding her head. "Tomorrow."

She tried to pull her arm away from him, but he held strong, lifting her hand to his mouth and leaving a quick kiss on her knuckles, before letting go and flourishing an over-exaggerate bow. "Your highness." And with that, he turned and swaggered away.

Elizabeth stood for a moment in shock, Will giggling slightly. Feeling her cheeks warm, Elizabeth took her son's hand and began to lead them back home, muttering something about getting home before the weather worsened.

**Review? I swear I'll update faster if you review. :3**


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! Sorry for the late update – laziness, procrastination, writing other stuff, writers block the usual. Sorry for it being so short!_

_And let me remind EVERYONE that this will not be four chapters long - remember I changed it? So there is more to come!_

_Oh and **please** review. I'll love you forever._

**Chapter Four:**

"You're not going anywhere, and that's final."

Elizabeth stood in front of her aunt, thoroughly exasperated. She had woken extra early that morning in hopes that her behavior would set her aunt in a positive mood, and it had. However, when she had told her about her departure with Will for the day, she was dismayed to find her aunt objecting to the idea, insisting that Will needed to go back to his schoolwork, and Elizabeth had to accompany her to a house of a wealthy colonel. Inhaling to calm herself, Elizabeth stood tall, thrusting her chin out proudly.

"Aunt Ethel, you know William and I have been grateful for the hospitality you have shown us since we've been here," she said slowly, her eyes closed. "And we know that if it weren't for you, we would most likely be strewn across the streets of England without a scratch of fare or money. But I am a grown woman, and William is my son; we are free to go and make our own choices in life. I refuse to be treated as if I were a child."

"You still _are_ a child," barked her aunt with narrowed eyes. "You do not even have a profession, and that son of yours is forever getting in trouble. I know it was his fault that vase broke the other night. It's my responsibility to keep you both in your places, and not wreak havoc across town – I will not have it!"

Cheeks flushed with anger, Elizabeth clenched her fist to hold herself back from hitting something or someone.

Through gritted teeth, she hissed, "My son is a better man then you ever were a woman. Don't you dare talk of him as if he is nothing more then a nuisance; he means more to me then anything else in this godforsaken world, including you."

Her aunt looked at her with shock. Elizabeth glowered at her for a moment longer, and without another word, turned swiftly around and walked away. Once out of her aunt's view however, she dashed up the stairs, and into her room, using all her power not to slam the door shut behind herself.

She was going to leave for the day, and that was final – she refused to sulk behind her aunt as she made small talk with some colonel she'd never heard of. She was so tired of being forced to carry out conversations and look agreeable, and she was not going to do it today, not when a far better idea was proposed in front of her.

She was going to see Jack, and she was going alone.

Biting her lip in thought, Elizabeth knew her son would feel hurt if he did not get to accompany her, but she needed to speak with the pirate without the worries of her son hearing. She quickly ran her fingers through her hair, and then made up her mind.

Hastily, she took off her nightgown and donned on her sailor clothing. A glance outside told her that it was not snowing, but damp out, wet snow that was compacted tightly together already giving her a feeling that it would take an hour or maybe even longer to reach her destination. An extra thick coat hung tantalizingly in her closet, and she grabbed it without a second thought, along with her satchel she hid amongst her gowns. She made her way out of her bedroom door, but paused. She did owe Will some sort of explanation for her absence…

Standing over her desk, Elizabeth quickly scrawled out a few words onto a piece of paper, hoping he had been studying literature and reading. Signing it, she crept to his room, and set it on his bedside stand silently. Kissing him lightly on the forehead, she quietly left his room, and tiptoed down the stairs with a feeling of trepidation.

The doorman (a nice middle-aged fellow by the name of Walter Johnson) stood by the door, his posture erect, but looking rather bored. When he saw her, he arched an eyebrow at her inappropriate attire, but opened the door nonetheless.

"Miss. Swann," he addressed, not catching her eyes. His lips were curled upwards slightly at the corners.

With a thankful smile, she nodded and slipped through the door and stepped out onto the outside world, beginning her journey down to the shore.

* * *

Will awoke that morning and was welcomed by a weakly lit room. Allowing his eyes to slowly adjust to the light, he stifled a yawn and sat up sleepily, his arms and legs aching slightly from the day before. Wait… the day before…

His face broke out in a euphoric grin.

They were going to see Jack again! _Again_! Positively giddy with excitement, Will forced himself out of bed despite his throbbing limbs and flung himself to his drawer. He pulled out a fresh set of clothing for the day, and changed into it, not even taking a moment to run a comb through his hair. Failing to notice the parchment on his bedside table, he dashed out of his door.

He first peered into his mother's bedroom which he discovered to be empty. _She must be downstairs_, he reasoned, descending down the steps and stepping into the drafty hallway. He shivered, and tugged on the sleeve of a passing maid.

"Do you know where my mother is?" he inquired with child innocence.

"I'm afraid I don't know dearie," she said answered, clad in heavy coat, a basket in her arms. "I'm off to the market now, is there anything you'd like?"

Will shook his head mutely and then remembering his manners, told her no thank you. He continued venturing down the hall peering into rooms as he went. She was not in the living room, study, dining hall, or even the kitchen – where could she be? Feeling only slightly deterred, he continued on and poked his head into the library, discovering his aunt to be there. He winced and tried to back away, but she saw him.

"You, child!" she barked.

Clenching his eyes shut for a moment, Will cursed himself silently for his terrible luck. "Yes Aunt Ethel?" he inquired, stepping into the room and feeling the atmosphere change – something was not right.

"You're to work on your studies today. No breaks."

"I'm supposed to be going out with mother."

Her lip curled slightly. "Plans have changed."

"Where is my mother?" Will persisted desperately.

Aunt Ethel spat, "How should I know were that insolent girl is? Now leave!"

Will left quickly, his eyebrows narrowed in confusion. Something had to have happened between aunt and niece, and he had a strong feeling that he would be the target of his great aunt's anger. He crept back upstairs and was going to steal away into his room, when Jonathan strode from a room, with an object in his hand that made a groan come from Will's mouth.

"Please, don't make me work on my studies."

Jonathan gave him a sympathetic smile. "Orders from Lady Ethel. Mr. Gawrych is here to help you with your reading."

Thinking frantically, Will sputtered, "But I – I have to find my mum, we have somewhere to –."

"I'm sorry, but I have specific commands to bring you to the library today," the older man apologized, not allowing Will to finish and waving the book in his hand.

Feeling his eyes sting lightly in anger and misery, Will nodded his head silently, and followed the servant down the stairs to the library. What was he to do? He was only a child, one who hardly had a say in any manner that occurred in his own life, at least when his mother wasn't around.

Will sat himself into a crimson chair next to Mr. Gawrych, a man in his mid-thirties who was kind and patient, and greeted him quietly while Jonathan placed the book between the two. Mr. Gawrych gave the servant a nod of the head, and flipped open the book, beginning to inform Will of what he was to do. The child sat in the chair, thousands of thoughts running through his mind.

Would he see Jack again? What had happened to his mother, why wasn't she here? An wicked voice in his head told him that she had left to see the pirate without him, but he shook his head. No, she wouldn't do that… She would not have gone and not taken him…

Would she?

* * *

Elizabeth's venture to the coastline took far longer then she had anticipated.

An unnaturally thick fog had set in, making it difficult to see even a few meters in front of her. She stumbled frequently over rocks and holes that had gone unseen, and the icy snow did nothing but add to the length of her trip. When she had finally made it down to the rocky shore, she was out of breath, and had to pause for a moment to take a drink of the chilling water she had with her.

Though she knew the ocean was near, it's salty air stinging her nose with comforting familiarity, it was hardly visible itself; the heavy mist covered it and gave the air the foreboding feeling. Trepidation rushed through the young woman's veins – it was unnerving to see something so large overcome by something as light and weak as fog.

After another good half hour of stumbling over rocks and areas of ice, Elizabeth had made it to her destination, and he was already there. However, he did not see her; he was turned away, head ducked down, and shaking something.

"_Bugger, bugger, bugger_. Stupid bloody thing," she heard him swear. Forcing herself to hold back an amused smile, she straightened up and strode towards him.

"Jack."

He spun around swiftly, his hand forcing whatever he was fighting with into his coat pocket as his lips pulled into a grin. His eyes seemed to assess her quickly.

"You came love," he avowed happily. "Good."

Elizabeth paused. "We need to talk."

His eyes squinted in slight confusion and he looked around her, ignoring her statement by inquiring, "Where's the lad?"

"He's home," she answered with slight sheepishness. "Let's walk."

Jack appeared to want to say more, but Elizabeth had already stepped out of the mouth of the cave, leaving him only to follow.

They shuffled further down the shore together, putting more and more distance between them and Plymouth with every step, silence enveloping the two thickly, an occasional sniffle breaking the stillness for but a moment. Elizabeth found this to be awkward, and finally had to speak.

"I don't want you here Jack."

He smiled lightly. "You chose to meet me here, and coming is your own fault."

"That's _not_ what I mean," hissed Elizabeth. "I may not be certain on the true reason as to what you have come to Plymouth for, but you shouldn't have come, and you know that."

"I do? Because I never knew that I knew that," he said, gesturing to himself greatly. "Enlighten me as to what I am supposed to know that _you_ in fact know, because I _don't_ know darling." His smile was all too innocent, contradicted by the humor that sparkled in his eyes.

She stopped walking, and spun around to face him, her eyes flashing dangerously. "I'm married to Will."

"Yes love, I know _that_," he replied, rolling his eyes.

"And yet you still came."

His face was blank for a moment as he carefully chewed over what she was desperately trying to get at without actually saying it. He arched an eyebrow in curiosity. "Am I that much of a threat to your promise to our dear William?"

Elizabeth's mouth fell open, and she had to remind herself to close it when the corner of Jack's lips began tugging upwards. "That has nothing to do with this," she managed to get out, flustered and surely turning red.

"Then what other reason would you not enjoy my presence?" he inquired, flashing a set of ivory and gold teeth.

She turned from him and began walking again, frustrated. "I don't want you bringing danger to Will and I. My son is the only one who knows that I've ever been associated with you, let alone _any_ pirates." She paused and stared at him. "My aunt believes my husband to have died at sea and that I am a widow. If she were to find out otherwise, I can only imagine the gallows would be my fate, along with Will's."

Jack wrinkled his nose. "It's not like I'm knocking at your bloody front door-."

"You came to Will's porch door!"

"Ah, but it's not the _front_ door, is it?"

Elizabeth's lips curled in slightly, her temper fading rather quickly. "Would you take me seriously for one moment?"

He looked surprise. "I am taking every word that falls from those lovely lips of yours critically love."

"You are completely… _insufferable_!"

Swirling around, she began stumbling down the shore again. Jack caught up, striding beside her, remaining silent for but a moment.

"My initial intent when I arrived at this, ah, charming city was to see if you might be swayed into joining me on an… adventure of mine, so to speak." He paused. "Is it possible that said certain female person could still be swayed? Preferably with some friendly persuasion?" A grin lit his face once more.

Elizabeth shot him a glare. "You have some nerve Jack Sparrow…"

"Love, it's Captain –."

A loud, irate growl from her stopped him mid-sentence - once again, they became silent, but this time Elizabeth was too aggravated to feel awkward. The usual tension filled the space between them. Oh that man! Even the way he was casually swaggering beside as if he had not a care in the world her made her want to hit him… or at the very least, throw something at him.

When she refused to speak again, Jack slowly began asking, "So, what say you about that proposition Lizz- er, Miss. Swann?"

"No. Absolutely _not_."

Pouting, Jack demanded, "And why ever not?"

Holding up a hand, she began marking off reasons as she huffed, "One, I made a promise to my husband to stay and guard the chest. If I were to leave to go… _gallivanting_ on some ridiculous adventure, his heart would be at risk every minute." She held up second finger. "Two, Will comes home for that one day in close to a year and a half, and I am _not_ going to miss that day, no matter what the reward is at the end of this trip," –she heard Jack snort, but continued on, another digit flinging upwards- "and three, I have a son, Jack. I would not risk his life for some journey you have up your sleeve. I care for him too much to loose him."

Jack thought over her words with his eyebrows pinched together in concentration. "You could always leave the boy here – and it would not take long to reach the Fountain of Youth. A few –."

"What?" Elizabeth had stopped walking and was staring at Jack. He sighed.

"I was saying, that it would only take a few months –."

She shook her head. "No, before that. Where did you say you were going?"

"To the Fountain of Youth. Really love, you need to listen –."

Jack stopped when he saw Elizabeth smile lightly. "You're still after immortality?"

He beamed proudly, happy that the mood of the subject was lightening and exclaimed, "Of course! Why not stick around for evermore to watch the world divulge all it has to offer?"

Thoughtfully, Elizabeth inquired, "And what happens when everyone around you perishes?"

Jack's nose twitched. "I suppose I'll cross that ocean when and if it comes. Do you've got anything to drink love? I'm nigh parched."

Wordlessly, she rummaged through her bag and withdrew a silver flask and handed it to him. "It's only water," she told him when his face contorted into a frown and he handed it back to her.

She herself brought the flask to her lips, though there was a taste to it, regardless of it's flavorless contents inside. Her eyes flashed to Jack, and in a moment the drink was away and she was twisting the cap on, turning so a curtain of hair covered her face – she was surely flushed, embarrassed because she actually enjoyed it.

"Something the matter?" Jack inquired.

Shaking her head, Elizabeth muttered, "No. I'm fine."

His eyes searched her for a moment, but they gave up after a moment. Taking in a large gulp of breath, he suddenly sat down on the rocky coast and picked up a rock, exhaling quietly. Struggling inwardly for a moment, Elizabeth sat next to him, though left a good space between herself and him.

"So Jack… why don't you tell me how you got the Pearl back now?"


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I apologize for the late update again. I will sincerely try to work on this harder to keep updates not so spacey. Also, I am sorry if the Spanish dialogue here is incorrect; if someone would be willing to check my Spanish before I post these, that'd be great; tell me be PM or review : )

Review for a terribly guilty feeling girl?

**Chapter Five:**

A thick and unnatural fog had settled around the grand vessel as it sliced through the cold ocean waves that bordered the great landmass of England, silently making its way toward its destination. A black silhouette could be made out in the white covering, an intimidating and large figure with broad shoulders, thick arms, and wild hair. Uneasily, a man approached the figure.

"Captain?" The man's voice wavered slightly.

He received a grunt in response.

"We're almost there, sir."

If the man had been able to see the front figure, he would have been able to witness the large, gaping sneer that spread across his lips.

"Well then," the captain murmured quietly, a Spanish accent lathered thick in his voice, "_Cargar las amos_."

* * *

Jack was apparently rather reluctant to share the story of how he got the Pearl back; he pretended to not have heard her, picked up a stone, and threw it into the ocean.

"I heard the clams here are just delectable," he told her enthusiastically, nodding his head. "We ought to go try some."

Elizabeth sighed. "Jack."

"Yes, it does sound like a rather fine idea…" He continued on, muttering about the taste of clams and how he was a bit hungry.

Annoyed, Elizabeth grabbed Jack's chin and turned his head towards her – his mouth finally closed, and his eyes fell to hers.

"Yes, love?"

She nearly growled. "The story, Jack! I want to hear it and you're _not_ getting out of this." Her hand fell.

"It's not particularly the most astounding Jack Sparrow legend I could feed you, love," he replied, his eyes shifting between her and the ground uneasily.

Elizabeth barked a laugh. "Most of them aren't to begin with, when you're not lying through your teeth."

"Pirate."

"Just tell me."

Jack's new look startled her; his eyes smoldered a bit more, and a lavish grin lazily made its way onto his face. He leaned towards her. "I'd rather you _persuade_ it from me."

Elizabeth turned a pretty shade of pink, though she was quick with her tongue and shot back, "I will in a moment with the steel of my blade if you don't confess soon."

He grumbled something that sounded like, "Women," but he reluctantly sighed when Elizabeth gave him a pointed look.

"Well, then I suppose I shall start at the beginning," he announced, more to himself then her. "As you already know love, that _cretinous_, _hirsute_, renegade Barbossa managed to get his scraggly little claws onto me ship, and sailed off with it and the rest of the traitorous crew."

Elizabeth interrupted, saying, "From right under your nose."

Said body part twitched and she knew she hit her mark. She smirked.

"That's besides the matter, Bess." She arched an eyebrow at her new nick-name, but he plowed forward.

"So I gathered a good supply of man's most important stipulation-," –he held up his flask- "rum, and sailed off in me honorable little dinghy, er, I mean boat."

Elizabeth stared at him incredulously. "You followed Barbossa in a _dinghy_ across the _sea_? Are you bloody _mad_?"

"Of course not love – that idea came to me mind through entirely logical and mindful strategizing!" Elizabeth noticed his bottom lip jutting out slightly, offended. "Now are you going to let me finish this little anecdote, or shall you continue on putting your bloody two cents into every sentence I utter?"

Her lips pursed slightly in annoyance at his reprimand. "Fine, continue."

Jack placed his finger on his chin thoughtfully. "Where was I again?" His eyes brightened. "Ah! Yes. So I launched out of Tortuga in me little boat, and sailed off for good ol' Shipwreck Cove, where, as I predicted, the feculent piece of body waste followed."

Elizabeth looked as if she had a question on the tip of her tongue, begging to come out. Jack's head, which was turned toward the ocean stayed there, though his eyes darted to the side to look at her. He exhaled.

"Spit it out."

"Why would he be wanting to follow you if he already had the _Pearl_?" she inquired.

A mischievous grin curled at the end of the corsair's lips and he leaned backwards, his hand falling down to the rocks to support his back. "Sorry – I forgot to mention that (cleverly, dare I say) I already had an ink of a feeling he would commandeer me ship, so I took the second thing he wanted most in the world before I left to head into the dear old Cove."

When he did not continue, she prodded, "Which was?"

His grin grew. "A meticulous set of navigational charts that shall provide useful in a valiant journey to a particular Fountain, expectantly.

"So there I was, waiting at the cheery pirate coven of Shipwreck Cove, decidedly avoiding another rather old and wrinkly man, when, as I so cunningly predicted, the sack of bones came, with _my_ ship. I managed to sneak my way onto the _Pearl_, but not before," –he made a face- "Barbossa showed up. It was quite grim after that really. There was some of the old crew still on the _Pearl_ who sided with me, some newer crewmembers who sided with the codpiece Hector, and some indecisive.

"Of course I- _we_ won," he continued smugly, "but not without this little bugger as another lovely souvenir from Hector."

Jack unbuttoned his frock coat a bit, and pulled down the neckline of his shirt, indicating to a long, angry scar that ran from the center of where his collarbones met, to the middle of his left shoulder. Elizabeth held back a gasp, horrified, but Jack nearly twitched at the contact of the cold, and re-buttoned his coat.

"It looks far worse then it was love," he assured her.

"How'd he manage…?"

He flashed her one of his dazzling smiles. "Another story for another day."

Elizabeth frowned. "You've said that before."

"Ah, and I kept me word," Jack pointed out, bobbing his head.

There was silence for a beat, and then she asked, "What happened to Barbossa?"

Suddenly a scowl came over Jack's face. "Bloody monstrosity of a man lived, unfortunately; dived overboard before I had the lovely chance to break my record of how many times I've sent him to hell."

Elizabeth's eyebrows pinched together in thought. "Jack, how long after you lost the _Pearl_ did you get it back?"

"Why so curious, love?" he countered.

She threw her eyes skyward. "Just answer the question, Jack."

He pondered over the query for a moment. "'Round a year and a half."

"A year and a half," she repeated. "Why so long?"

Jack shifted uncomfortably, his eyes moving to the ground as he picked up a smooth stone. "I was having compass, erm, malfunctions. Bloody thing kept pointing towards the Atlantic, where I was most certain the _Pearl_ was not. S'why I went to Shipwreck Cove."

Elizabeth interrupted him with another question. "You've had almost six years to search and find the Fountain of Youth. Why haven't you discovered it yet?" she demanded.

He seemed close-mouthed all of a sudden. "A man has his priorities love; there was a bloody well good reason why I waited. Now," he stood up, "enough about me, even though I do enjoy talking of meself." He grinned.

Snorting, Elizabeth took the hand he offered her. "I would never of guessed."

* * *

Will nearly threw himself from his chair and out of the room when Mr. Gawrych announced that he could take a break, rushing out of library as fast as his legs would carry him. He had sat for nearly two hours straight, reading passages for what felt like the millionth time, his eyes glancing from time to time at the clock that sat on the mantle of the fireplace.

Standing in the middle of a whitewashed hallway, he bit his lip, debating what he should do.

His great-aunt was gone, visiting a colonel and his wife. It did not really matter if she were home anyway; he would never seek solace or fun from her. He had an itching that she'd turn into a angry dragon like the ones from fairytales if he asked her to do something with him.

His mother was off somewhere and he had brokenheartedly begun to believe that she did in fact leave without him to go to the shore. His eyes stung lightly, but rubbed them quickly and it was gone. He would not cry; he was not… a _baby_.

And to make matters unbelievably and implausibly worse, his stomach was growling and aching with hunger.

Groaning, he decided to deal with his most easily solved problem first and headed off to the kitchens, his teeth clenched together, his mind reeling with despaired and confused thoughts. When he made it to the kitchen door, he paused, hearing voices. Pressing his ear to the door, he eased dropped on the excited female voices of the manor's maids.

"… and she just ran off, leavin' quite a sting on tha' foul ol' lady," said a woman, and Will could practically see her eyes wide with the thrill of the most recent manor news.

"The ol' witch deserved it – she's nothin' but a harridan to that widow and her boy." This response sounded like it came Sylvia, a younger worker whom Will always liked for her kindness.

There was a murmur of agreements, and then another, unfamiliar voice questioned lowly, "That Miss. Swann is an odd woman; she comes off far more agreeable around us lowly maids then the richest of men who come to dine with her and her aunt, or for banquets."

Will smiled proudly.

"Not only tha'," came another hushed whisper (Will pressed himself closer to the door, straining to hear the quiet voice), "but I've seen her coming and going from the manor dressed as a _man_!"

Some gasps commingled with a few "It's true!".

"The audacity of her. A woman of her stature has no need to dress so; does she have no sense of propriety?" This came from an older maid named Gretchen that neither Will nor his mother liked, and he frowned, angered by this comment.

Deciding that he did no longer wished to hear the words of gossiping women, he pushed open the door, forcing a small smile.

Sylvia stood when she saw Will and came forward while the woman who stayed behind exchanged a few looks but then they were standing and fretting around the kitchen. Sylvia greeted Will and said that he must be hungry, having missed breakfast and being such a big growing boy.

"What can we get you?" she inquired, guiding him to a stool. Will's aunt wouldn't be home until much later, and so they had not been instructed to conger up some lavish feast for lunch.

"Something hot would be nice," he admitted.

Will helped the women as they began preparing a quick stew; he aided a friendly, older woman peal potatoes, listening as she blabbered on about the dreadful weather and how much of a pain it was to go to the market to fetch fresh produce and meats.

"Really, me poor ol' bones just ain't what they used to be," she informed him, dropping another white, fully pealed potato in a wooden bowl.

"I'm sorry," Will muttered, not really sure what to say, his own troubles over-shadowing any sympathy he really felt for her.

She beamed, and ruffled his hair. "What a sweet boy you are! We should chop you up instead an' put you in the stew!"

Will gave a small grin, and continued half-listening to her when she launched back into another complaint of how the snow and ice made her market journeys even worse.

The final result of his listening and helping was well worth it; the broth of the meal was rich and thick, accompanied with potatoes, carrots, and some meat he was unsure of, but too busy wolfing down to bother asking about. A cold roll from the day before was quickly warmed and softened by the broth, and soon he was sighing contently, pushing his bowl away from himself.

"Thank you," he told the group of woman, and all of them (save for Gretchen) smiled at him in response.

Will was about to rise and leave when a man burst into the room. All heads turned to him; his brown eyes were wide with a mixture of surprise and fear, his face extremely pale. Everyone fell silent as the man bent over to catch his breath.

"What is it, Walter?" Sylvia asked after a moment, her voice perfectly calm.

The doorman, Walter, looked up, his face even more pallid then before. "The fort, the city… it's under attack."

A few woman gasped, but Sylvia stood, walking towards the man.

"By who?" she whispered.

Will knew the answer before it escaped the doorman's mouth.

"Pirates."

* * *

"So what is your lovely auntie like, love?" Jack asked. "Much like your father, I'd imagine."

They had begun a slow stroll down back towards Plymouth, taking their time to reach over and pick up interesting looking rocks. Their conversation had stayed off the topic of Elizabeth and Will sailing off with him in search of the Fountain of Youth, but they both knew the other still had it on their mind.

Elizabeth scoffed. "Hardly," she replied, her eyes scanning the rocks. "She's one of the foulest women you could ever meet; pray that you never have the unlucky chance to come into contact with her."

"She sounds charming." Jack grinned lopsidedly at her, his eyes straying from her face to the ground near his feet, where they lit up.

Reaching down, he picked up something that Elizabeth could not see. She walked over next to him.

"What is it?"

His grin grew broader, his eyes practically glowing when he lifted them to her hazel ones, opening his hand to reveal a piece of blue glass nor bigger then a shilling – instead of being shiny and clear like normal glass, it was murky and cloudy, its edges softened to smooth curves.

"Sea-glass," he informed her, rolling it between his fingers. "S'quite lovely, isn't it?"

Elizabeth took it from his palm, the tips of her fingers brushing against the rough skin of his opened hand. Her eyes darted from him and back to the glass.

"It's beautiful," she murmured while running her thumb along its smooth surface.

Jack took a step away from her and bowed in one sweeping movement. "For you then, m'lady, my Pirate King."

And he was doing it again; those sweet little actions that seemed like nothing, but added up to something large. Elizabeth, unable to hold back a smile, grinned at him foolishly.

"Why thank you kind sir. I shall treasure it forevermore." She placed it safely into her pocket, planning to make it into some sort of necklace.

Jack's eyes followed her every movement and then he was close to her again. "You know love, I-."

He noticed the playfulness leave her eyes, suddenly replaced concentrated, intent look that hardened her features, silencing what he was about to say. Her eyes widened and narrowed at the same time, frozen onto his onyx black ones.

"What… is that sound?"

Jack strained to listened too. It was distant, but he recognized the dim '_boom'_ sound.

He frowned. "Sounds like canon-fire to me."

Elizabeth looked at him in confusion. "Canon-fire? Who would…" Her eyes widened, and jaw fell. "Oh my."

It all came rushing back to her; the conversation on Christmas she had when they were in the sitting room with Christopher and Clarice Wellington. The conversation that caused her excitement at the time and curiosity, but now brought on an entirely diverse wave feelings.

_Elizabeth's head snapped over to Christopher. "Pardon, but what has been happening?"_

_All the heads turned to Elizabeth; it was the first thing she had said since they had sat down. Blushing slightly, she looked down._

"_I said," the man repeated, " that lately merchant ships along the coast of Great Britain have been pirated. They're not French or Chinese; we do not know where they're from..."_

"It's pirates…" she gasped, coming from her reverie.

Jack's face was hard and serious when he looked at her, having realized something before her. "Elizabeth…"

The sound of canons increased.

When she spoke again, her voice was filled with horror and alarm.

"Oh god, Jack… my son… Will is still in Plymouth!"


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: As I think for far in the distance future chapters, I believe that I may have to boost the rating. Hmm… Thanks to those who reviewed and to those who didn't… I suppose I deserve that as punishment for rare updates, (which I am obviously working on! Go me! ) though your feedback is always appreciated. So… **review**?

For those curious, all the Spaniard names here came from one of those baby-naming books. And if you want, I could always translate the Spanish phrases at the bottom of the chapter, but that ruins the 'last sentence' effect I like my stories to have.

**Chapter Six:**

The cannons on the _Cesarina_ bucked backwards violently with each cannonball that shot from them to the startled city of Plymouth, sinking the few small ships in its docks within minutes and then viciously launching into the city itself. The mist seemed to depart with the arrival the grand warship and its captain, revealing the large expanse of wooden and stone buildings that looked far less intimidating now that the captain could see them.

This would be easier than he planned.

"Marcus," the captain growled to his first mate, his _r_'s rolling off his tongue smoothly.

"_Si, capitán_ Faust?" The young man showed only a little of the trepidation he felt around his captain when he appeared by his side, leaving his position in supervising the guns.

Faust's eyes, the deathly color of black narrowed, his nose twitching from the gun smoke that filled the air.

"Have the crew ready the longboats for the shore party," he commanded, his eyes never turning towards Marcus, staying obstinately on the land that hopefully held what he desire most. His voice was low and velvety, almost a caress. "I want you to retrieve my dear Merisel and Flavian with what we came for, or things shall result very badly for you and the rest of you _ratas de sentina_."

Marcus bowed his head to hide his grimace. "_Como usted desee, capitán_."

* * *

"Pirates?" Sylvia repeated, her once flushed face draining its color instantly. The fear in her tone was perceivable though she tried with difficulty to conceal it. Her hands instinctively grabbed Will's shoulders, pulling him to her side protectively, but the child wretched himself from her grip, flying out of the steaming kitchen despite the woman's protests and dashed to the parlor.

Will plastered his face to the window that overlooked the docks, his eyes widening in a mixture of terror and awe at the grand warship that floated just a couple hundred yards away from the docks, bright bursts from the cannons quickly being covered by the smoke that accompanied it. He could faintly make out through the fog some people fleeing the docks and nearby markets, others readying their own guns and running towards the fort to help defend the city.

Out of all the tales of pirates he'd been told, he never knew a real pirate attack would be this horrifying, especially when longboats began to disperse into the water and towards the shore, no doubt hoarding more corsairs. He tried to appear strong and unfazed by the entire ordeal, but his hands began to tremble when realized that his _mother_ was out there.

Two hands clamped firmly onto his shoulders, pulling him away from the window and spinning him around. He looked up and met Sylvia's hazel eyes with Jane right beside her, her face mirroring the anxiety in her friend's features.

"William, you mustn' act so rashly," Sylvia whispered. "Now I know you must be frightened-."

"I'm not afraid," Will protested, but was contradicted by the quaking in his words. He swallowed, trying to get a firm hold on his emotions. "My mother is out there, we must go get her! We can't just leave her there, she could… she might get…"

This time Jane spoke, kneeling down to his level. "Will, we haven't the time to discuss this, nor act upon it-."

Will exclaimed heatedly, "But she is my _mum_!"

The women exchanged a glance, noticing the glassy appearance of his eyes, sympathizing for him greatly; both felt that Elizabeth would not make it. And he was just so young, only having just turned eight - he was too young to loose his remaining parent.

"I know love, I know, but we really do not have the time to be discussin' this right now."

The grip on his shoulders tightened and he began to feel himself be tugged from the room.

"Please," he begged, struggling against their hold, "please, we must to something, I-I cannot just stay here and-."

They pulled him to the kitchen and he was once again forced into a seat. A younger maid with olive skin and black hair rushed towards him, a mug in her hand.

She handed it to him. "Drink this, it'll relax you."

"I don't-."

"Drink."

Her eyes were sharp and commanding. Will shriveled back from her, feeling uncomfortable under her penetrating gaze and closed his eyes and downed the liquid. It was sweet, almost syrupy, sliding down his throat in the most exotic way.

When he gave the mug back to her she assessed him.

"Well?" she prompted. "How do you feel?"

Will immediately felt the effects of the mystery liquid working its toll on him. "I feel… tired…" His previous worries melted, his eyelids growing heavier with each second that passed by.

The woman slowly grinned at him, however it gave him the chills more then a feeling of comfort. Albeit, he had no time to ask her why he had never met her for a black haze took over his vision and he passed out.

* * *

Merisel leaned back away from the drugged boy.

"Too easy," she murmured, standing.

She turned to discover an angry face inches from hers. Who was this woman now? She believed her name was something foolish… Silver? Sable? Something with an 's', she was sure…

"What the bloody hell did you do the poor boy?" the red faced maid demanded.

"Me?" Merisel's eyebrows rose innocently, her hand moving the empty mug in back of her. "I did nothing, I assure you. The poor little…" She searched her mind frantically. "The poor little bugger passed out, that's all."

Merisel felt her wrist jerked forward, the mug coming in front of her face. She nervously chuckled. "'Tis nothing but…"

"You poisoned him!"

The exclamation alerted the rest of the residents in the kitchen, all eyes turning to the two women.

_So much for Plan A then_, Merisel assumed.

Swift as a lemur, she withdrew the pistol that was tucked inside her apron and pressed the mouth of the barrel to the maid's stomach. The maid jumped, having not seen the motion, her wide eyes darting from the gun to Merisel's eyes.

"That's better now, isn't it?" Merisel murmured soothingly, her red lips moving slowly. "No need to get so… flustered… 'Twas just a bit of this and that, just enough to knock the poor, little _mocoso_ out for a bit." She sneered, shoved the maid away from her and rose the gun. The entire room seemed to jump backwards.

When she spoke again, Merisel's voice was smooth, velvety, and rich in Spaniard accent. "To the floor, all of you," she demanded, waving the gun. "Except for you of course, my lovely Flavian."

A man stepped from the crowd that began to sink to the floor, his skin tone and hair color matching Merisel's, clad in the clothes of a servant. "Of course, my _princesa_," he purred, bowing.

"Go make sure no one unwanted comes poking about," the Spanish woman ordered. "Fiorello and his lot shall be here soon. And hopefully a particular _Pirata Rey_ shall arrive too."

Flavian nodded. "Si, my dear."

"Oh, and do return when you are done Flavian; the element of surprise is most entertaining."

The Spaniard man grinned and left the room and Merisel's attention was once again on the group of servants and maids crowded in the kitchen. She grinned down at them, assuming her position next to the unconscious child.

"_Lo que un día interesante_…"

* * *

Jack and Elizabeth had begun running as fast as they could merit towards the direction of the city the moment the name 'Will' left her mouth.

An unbelievably strong and invisible force gripped Elizabeth's throat until she could barely breath, and it was not due to the extreme physical effort; it was the dread and panic that washed over her, the pain that grew inside her with each step they took. How could she have been so _damn_ thoughtless? So _naïve_? All the signs had been there that something terrible was going to happen and yet she had chosen to ignore them and push them aside as if they meant nothing. She was a fool, a complete, bloody _idiot_.

And even worse, she had failed as a mother.

If they did not get there… she could not fathom what might happen.

Will. William. Her son. The only bit of sunshine in her life that drove her forward, the very thing that brought meaning to the word life. Elizabeth had never once resented him, disliked him, or wished him away. Not even through the agonizing experience of giving birth did she loath him the slightest bit - if anything, it made her love him even more.

He was everything she had, everything that mattered to her. The idea of living in a world without him… it was too heart wrenching to even imagine.

They _had_ to get there.

With a newfound energy, she pushed forward, forcing Jack to keep up.

The rocky shore made their journey even more difficult, threatening the two with the chance of sprained or broken ankles, but both were nimble on their feet. Soon both Jack and Elizabeth were sweating beneath their thick layers of clothing. Neither slowed down.

The chaos in Plymouth could be heard more clearly now, drifting down over the sharp drop of the rocky cliffs to their ears; screams of women and children were heard, shattered by the explosions from cannons and gunfire. Frantic voices were shouting for one another – lovers, children, friends, mothers, fathers, and siblings. It was almost too much to bear.

What did the pirates want in Plymouth? It was a large city, with the powerful protection of King George and his army behind it to protect the rich and poor that lived there. Its fort was enough to frighten away even adversary privateers until they were at least halfway back across the Atlantic. The pirates had to be suicidal to attempt to try to pilfer the entire city dry of gold.

Unless they did not come for gold.

Elizabeth's heart sunk even further.

"This way," she gasped to Jack when they made it to the path up the where the cliffs softened to an eminently steep hill.

Jack felt as if his sides might burst from the effort and strain; they had completed a half-hour walk in less then a quarter of an hour. His legs and lungs protested loudly until he truly believed them to be on fire. And the sharp incline of the hill did not help at all, but he just pressed on with even more determination.

He felt alarmed when he caught a glance of Elizabeth; her face was masked, unreadable, but he saw the distress in her eyes, the torture of knowing they could be too late.

"We'll get there in time, Elizabeth," he said, against his need for oxygen. "I swear."

Reaching the top of the hill, they stopped for a beat of a moment, both bent over, their chests heaving desperately. However, their pause lasted less then a minute; both withdrew their swords, and Jack his pistol, and they were once again off, dashing down a snowy-path that led around the city and to Ethel Swann's mansion, residing on the outskirts of town.

Both Elizabeth and Jack felt as if weights had been lifted off their chests when they realized that the edges of the city had still remained unaffected by the pirate attack. They only encountered citizens who were fleeing the attack, both the wealthy and deprived, some nursing wounds and others helping injured persons get away. Elizabeth felt a twinge of guilt in the back of her mind, but she did not stop, having only one thought running through her mind.

_Will_.

Relief hit the two even more when they reached the house that appeared unaffected by the battle. However, there was only one problem as they pushed at the gate.

"It's locked," Elizabeth cried through her arduous breathing, her hands rattling the metal bars violently.

Thinking quickly, Jack strode over to where the wall became stone and Elizabeth followed him, catching on. He bent down onto one knee and held out his hands that laced together to form a cradle.

Elizabeth put a foot in his hands and groped the stone wall. With a grunt of effort, Jack hoisted her up, muttering, "Up and over." She grabbed the top of the stone and brought herself over it, her golden head vanishing over the other side. He heard a 'thump' and raced over to the gates.

Hurriedly, she lifted the gates latch and the two sprinted up the carriage-flattened path. Jack placed his hand on Elizabeth's upper arm as they reached the white front doors, stopping her.

"M'getting an odd feeling about this," he told her quietly, his eyebrows narrowing.

She gave him a look that said 'me too' and nevertheless pushed on the doors…

Which were surprisingly _unlocked_.

They exchanged a look and stepped into the warm embrace of the hallway.

Elizabeth's eyes searched the open archways that led to the parlor to her right and living room to her left; they were completely empty. It felt as if silent, ghoulish whispers were caressing her skin, warning her, setting her senses immediately on alert.

From behind her Jack pushed forward. "Let's stick together, shall we?"

Creeping down the hall quietly, Elizabeth felt the anxiety begin to close her throat once more. It was far too silent. Too still. Jack had been correct; something _was_ amiss – she would have been far more comforted if she heard the frightened voices of the servants, as odd as it was.

Despite her sense of trepidation, she moved down whitewashed hallway, her steps echoing quietly on the soft walls. Reaching the swinging door of the kitchen, she felt all the hairs on the back of her neck on edge. Swallowing once, she pushed open the door, with Jack right behind her.

Elizabeth only had a moment to take in her surroundings but it still made her heart drop; at least seven men and woman who worked serving in the manor were kneeling at the ground, their eyes wide and faces pale, though otherwise unharmed. One other person stood away from the frightened faces. She was sitting on a stool with a pistol aimed at the head next to her, the head of familiar curly brown locks, the head of…

"_Will-_!"

_Thump_.

A fist collided smartly into her stomach, pulling the air from her lungs, causing her to double over in pain, her eyes shutting as tears sprung to them. She heard a gun click as it was cocked, but an unfamiliar female voice stopped the bang that should have followed.

"Attack my lovely Flavian and the boy shall meet the same fate."

Elizabeth opened her eyes and discovered Jack to be aiming his pistol at the man who punched her, his face unreadable. The woman who sat next to Will pressed the mouth of the barrel to the child's head, a leer curling at the corner of her lips.

"Have your _hombre_ drop his weapon, _Rey_ Elizabeth," the woman purred, her accented voice as sharp as the edge of glass. "You have my word that nothing shall happen unless you wish it."

Jack lowered the pistol reluctantly, letting it fall to the ground. Elizabeth's eyes remained frozen on her son.

"What did you do to him?" Elizabeth's words were full of harsh odium and rage, her look sending daggers at the dark-haired women who sat beside her son.

The woman glanced uncaringly at Will. "Oh, this?" She clicked her tongue. "No worries my _cisne_, he is only in the deepest of sleeps. He is unharmed." She used the mouth of the gun to brush a lock of the boy's hair from his face. Elizabeth started forward, a hiss leaving her throat, but Jack's warning voice held her back.

"Elizabeth… don't do anything you might regret now, love." He tried his best to put comfort into what he said; their situation was particularly rickety at the moment. The gears in his mind worked quickly, his crystalline orbs darting about the room, assessing his surroundings.

He was Captain Jack Sparrow; he _had_ to find a way out of this.

An eyebrow arched on the woman's face. "Wise words. It'd be in your best interest to listen to them _Rey_ Swann."

Elizabeth's jaw was tense, her teeth grinding together viciously while her hands clenched the air, balling into fists at her sides. Seeing as she was in no condition to speak without saying something risky, Jack spoke to the woman.

"Now look here, Miss…?"

The woman smirked and regarded the captain. "Merisel."

Jack continued on casually. "Good name. Has a rather charming ring to it. Though it is rather thick on the tongue, if you follow… something simple like 'Mary' would have been better suited, I think… perhaps Amy…"

At the incredulous look he received from Elizabeth and the savage look he received from Merisel, he decided to continue on to his point.

"Yes. Well, Miss. Merisel," –he gestured to the woman with a flourish of a hand- "as… honored and fortunate as we are to have merit a visit from one such as yourself, we really just stopped by to pick up the lad and be on our way, savvy? So if you'd so kind as to…" Jack made a few hand waving motions between himself, the woman, and Will. "Give the boy here, we'd quietly leave your… lovely and not at all disconcerting presence."

Elizabeth became rigid beside him; already knowing the answer was not what they wanted to here.

Merisel's lips quirked upwards, a laugh escaping her mouth. "_Lo_ _siento_, dear captain, but I did not just come by to visit." Her eyes flashed to Elizabeth's.

"You see we need to talk about a particular chest you have in your possession, my _Pirata Rey_."


End file.
